Water, Whole.

Etosha National Park, Namibia – The sun has set and the park has come alive. A low, baritone rumble issued below us serves as a warning.

A more forceful trumpet: a rebuke.

Elephants of all size – lit against the darkness – have gathered at our camp’s waterhole. Four rhinos, meanwhile, have infringed upon their space. One of the junior male pachyderms flaps his ears and mock-charges, causing three of the rhinos to retreat to a safe distance.

Another, unfazed, strides into the water. For a moment, an uneasy truce.

One of the many baby elephants, taking a break from suckling at its mother, grows curious, wandering over to the interloper. Its mother uses her trunk to forcefully flick water at the rhino. The message is clear.

A bunny hops by in the foreground between a pair of jackals, offering comedic relief.

The park is dry, but it won’t be long before humans, too, fight wars over water.

With more than 50 elephants now ringing the pool, the rhino snorts and shrugs, shuffling back into the bush.

Crisis averted – the calf, trying to catch up to its trunk, remains blissfully unaware of the high alert its curiosity has caused.

Game, Set, Match.

Are you making fun of my nose?

Etosha National Park, Namibia – Late this morning, we again set out into Etosha National Park in search of rhinos ambling across the flats.

Fragrant Namibian myrrh rose with the dust, bathing the air with a pungent perfume of herb and fruits. The sky soon dissolved from blue to half-grey.

Elephants here, giraffes, everywhere – animals that, just yesterday, garnered such excitement in the truck – sprinkled between wildebeest, zebra and impala. Springbok huddle from the sun under squat acacia that resemble tiny parasols twisted into the sand.

Under a low tree, our target: a horn-less black rhino, wearily resting at the side of the road, its ears twitching insistently at flies seeking a meal. The wings of a thousand of them wouldn't provide the magnificent beast with any respite from the heat.

Three lions heave from a morning spent lying around. Cats.

Then, right before we pull into camp for the night, an even more rare white rhino crosses the road in front of us. At the waterhole in camp, four more.

It's called a game drive: sometimes you lose; sometimes you win.

Sometimes, you hit the jackpot.

Life (and Death) in the Desert.

You seem to have some junk in your trunk, Judy.

Etosha National Park, Namibia – The southern corner of Etosha National Park is so desiccated it looks as though it has been paved over with white cement. Looking for animals makes the eyes bleary.

The good news: it's easier to spot them when they appear; the bad – many will have receded into areas of the park where there is more water and vegetation. The drought is bad enough the park has had to create its own water holes.

Deeper into the park, the 120-kilometre-long Etosha pan is cooking: blanched bones lie scattered, tracing a crooked trail to a full tree under which two lions lie lazily, their stomachs full of what was once a living, breathing wildebeest. The chorus of "Circle of Life" rings through the truck.

Eventually, the post-apocalyptic landscape, from which springboks melt like a mirage, lets up and we arrive at a watering hole, where oryx patrol the waters, making springboks leap awkwardly and in a panic. It's a whole different world.

Shortly thereafter, the long-horned antelope are no longer kings of the pool: nine elephants have come to roll in the water and to spray themselves, exchanging tender touches of the trunk like complex handshakes. Dap, for the animal kingdom.

It's obvious they know each other, and regard each other with affection.

Magic.