Waterberg

Hot, humid and gloriously overgrown, so the midday siesta is very much part of the plan. Short, dramatic downpours keep the waterholes full and the frogs very happy (and very loud). It’s prime time for the smaller wildlife: dung beetles rolling their prizes along the tracks, clouds of butterflies, and summer visitors such as woodland kingfishers and European bee-eaters.

The rains start to ease off, and the bush begins its slow turn from green to gold. The youngsters born at the start of summer grow in confidence (and attract plenty of predator attention). The migrant birds are still around, fattening up for the long flight north. With no major holidays and few visitors, lodges often offer good deals.

This is arguably the Waterberg’s best-kept secret. The rains have mostly gone, the skies are clear, the days are warm without being fierce, and the nights are cool enough for a campfire. The impala rut gets going, and the bush fills with the snorts and roars of rams squaring up to each other over the ladies. Mild weather and soft light also make autumn one of the best times for mountain walking safaris.

The dry season settles in. The grass thins, the bush opens up, and animals start heading back to rivers and waterholes, so sightings improve as the week goes on. High on the Kransberg cliffs in Marakele, Cape vulture pairs lay their single egg (laying peaks from late May into June). Then they take turns sitting on it while the other parent goes off to find food. The days are golden and mild, and the mornings are crisp enough for a fleece.

Winter is here, and prime game viewing has begun. Pack a beanie for the early drives: in the valleys, nights can drop close to freezing, and you may wake to frost on the grass. By mid-morning it’s sunny, dry and pleasant again, and the thinning bush makes rhino, elephant, lion and the rest of the Big Five much easier to spot. The long, clear nights are superb for stargazing.

The coldest, driest month of the year, and one of the very best for wildlife. With the bush stripped back and water hard to find, animals crowd around the last reliable waterholes and rivers, and the predators know it. On the cliffs, the vulture parents are still swapping incubation shifts.  Bring layers and enjoy the fireside dinners.

Still dry and still excellent, but the cold eases off as the month goes on. Sightings at the waterholes are about as reliable as they get; the predators are busy, and the low winter sun gives everything a golden glow. Up on the Kransberg, the vulture chicks have hatched, and the colony gets busy feeding.

Spring arrives. The days warm up quickly, the first trees start to flower, and the earliest summer migrants trickle back in. It’s still dry, so game viewing stays superb. The trade-off is dust and haze, which can soften the mountain views until the first rains rinse the sky clean.

The bush holds its breath. Early in the month it’s hot, dry and lean, with some of the year’s highest temperatures arriving just before the rains. Then the first storms roll in, wash away the dust and haze, and turn the hills green almost overnight. Migrant birds return in droves, wildlife is still easy to find in the thinner bush, and visitor numbers drop off.

Baby boom season. Impala give birth in a short, synchronised window, so suddenly wobbly lambs are everywhere (very good news for the predators). Zebra foals and warthog piglets join in, and the summer birds are all back. Butterfly fans should look out for the Kransberg widow. Afternoon storms are back on the daily schedule.

Long, hot days, emerald hills and a festive buzz. Thunderstorms build most afternoons, often followed by rainbows over the plateau. After four and a half to five months on their ledges, the young Cape vultures are getting ready for their first flights, and the birding is as good as it gets. A great choice for a family Christmas in the bush.