There is no other like it - not even close.
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It has a very interesting history:
The tamboti tree grows extremely slowly - in all likelihood it took this tree hundreds of years to reach its maximum height of 18 meters. It probably died of old age or a lightning strike and was further broken by foraging elephants or more storms many hundreds of years ago.
One fine winter morning some forty years ago I accompanied my best friend and mentor on an extended motorcycle patrol through a very inaccessible and desolate area in the African wilderness. Always on the alert for dangerous wildlife, we leisurely meandered along the tortuous game trails in the bush. Should there be anything potentially dangerous up ahead, one needs to be aware of it in time for evasive action, if necessary. Fortunately the bigger animals will mostly avoid a confrontation unless you corner or surprise them. Mostly it will be a vocal warning, breaking branches or even a mock charge - but don't bank on it. A 500cc scrambler is usually quick enough to get you out of trouble with the big stuff. A four-meter black mamba, however, does not snort, growl or break branches, and as a rule it is only spotted once it rears up to eye level as prelude to striking - and by then it is mostly too late for evasive action. Standard procedure is to simply abandon the bike on the opposite side of the snake. This tends to be a bone-jarring experience, but preferable to near-certain death. Leave the fight to the bike and the snake.
By about noon we came across a small pan that still held some water from the previous summer. Judging by the depleted state of the surrounding vegetation it was probably the only water for miles around. We simultaneously spotted the mud encrusted rhino rubbing post at the edge of the water, and could only stare in awe. Neither of us had ever seen something remotely as breathtaking. Yes, when I first set eyes on the Venus de Milo the magnificence did take my breath away. But this was something else - this was not man-made. This was created by the Gods themselves, with their own tools and in their own time. I had goosebumps all over when the thought crossed my mind that, when Alexandros started chipping away at his block of marble thinking about Aphrodite, right here, in Africa, a single seed of Spirostachys africana germinated. Right here, on the very spot we were standing. Dumbstruck we reverently approached the post and touched it gently on the more recently rubbed areas, where the polished wood seemed to radiate life through the thin film of drying mud. Although my friend Tom never used hard language, I will never forget the first words he uttered in a whisper: "Fok my, Oom Leeu..."
All my life I have been in a close, intimate relationship with Nature and all its children and magical wonders. That day was the closest I have ever been to my Creator, and the most appreciative I have ever felt to all the wonders that surround us every day on this earth.
We fetched our water bottles, sandwiches and jerky from the bikes and sat down right at the edge of the little pan. The silence of the serenity was overwhelming. The picture of that magnificent sentinel in the middle of nowhere will live in my mind forever. Even through the coating of ancient clumps of mud, the elegance in the curves of the many sculptors was clearly evident. Definitely not the work of a mere human mind.
When we eventually got back on our bikes we hadn't really talked about the experience - words would have spoiled the sense of having discovered eternity. "If you are still alive by the time an elephant pushes it over, I want it. I will give you a lung, a kidney and half my liver for it" I said, only half joking.
He merely smiled and snorted. "It will and should probably end up in a museum of natural history where millions can share its magnificence. And maybe learn something."
We didn't talk about it further, but the magic remained.
Some five years later, on my fortieth birthday, Tom showed up at my house in his 4X4 truck. On the back, tightly wrapped in a blanket and resting on a foam mattress was the essence of my dreams.
Apparently an elephant did indeed make its contribution. Tom had leveled off the remaining roots and must have spent a lot of time removing all the mud encased in even the tiniest cracks. He must have gone through a wide variety of wire brushes and stuff.
Then he flattened a small area with a chisel where he engraved the epic words of a song by Koos du Plessis with an ancient dental laboratory drill:
An occasional thin coating of raw linseed oil applied by loving hands (not a cloth), and here it still stands proudly in all its glory. I still draw life and inspiration from it daily.
Author's note:
No-one has ever gotten out of this alive. When you die, do not die with dreams. Die with memories. Do not postpone - DO IT NOW!!