Birds stop trilling as the elephants near the sun-bleached bones. The savannah seems to silence itself for its gentle giants.
With their trunks, they delicately lift the bones of their beloved matriarch.
With their trunks, they trace the jaw and teeth of the mouth they used to greet.
With their trunks, they soothe her agitated orphan daughter.
The caravan watches the elephants in silence.
“What are they doing, momma?” whispers a boy.
She grabs the binoculars and inspects. “Looks like they’re playing with bones.”