You can usually tell a healthy elephant population by the number of calves it contains. In Amboseli, when I visited in October 2020, there had been a ‘baby boom’. 200 calves had been born that calendar year, following bountiful rains two years previously – an elephants gestation period is 22 months – and there were calves everywhere you looked.

These youngsters are such characters, as inquisitive as their mothers are gentle, charging around the herd while trying to muster their trunks. Given it contains 40,000 individual muscles this is no mean achievement, one that requires a lot of practice. Indeed there are few more comical sights on safari than a young elephant wiggling its trunk in a motion that looks not dissimilar to a wind sock blowing in a hurricane.

On this particular morning, we were following a herd as they crossed a dry lake bed, searching for water in an area that had not seen rain for six months. They knew where they were headed, and followed a clear path that they had taken twice a day, every day throughout the dry season.

So familiar were they with it that this little one could run along side its mother at the front, its footsteps filling those carved out over previous voyages, and seemingly a smile on its face. Happy, I presume, in the knowledge water was close.

As with all images in this collection, 10% of the proceeds from this image will be split between David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation and Saving The Wild, my two partnered charities. It is thanks to the efforts of dedicated individuals and organisations like these that I, and many others, are able to still enjoy the incredible wildlife Africa has to offer. It is imperative to me therefore, that my images are able to help them achieve their missions and amplify their message.