There is a moment before dawn, when the bush feels suspended between dark and light. Before the first light touches the tops of the tallest marula trees, and the air still holds the cool breath of the night. On such mornings, if we’re out tracking on foot following fresh tracks, I sometimes like to pause and simply breathe. The world smells alive. The dust, the damp earth, the faint musk of a passing elephant. The sweet, faint scent of wild basil crushed beneath my shoe.
We humans live largely through our sense of vision, but to the animals around us, the sense of smell is the foundation upon which their entire world is built. Every whisper of wind carries large amounts of information. A story written not in words but in airborne molecules.
When a wild dog, a leopard or a lion inhales, for example, their noses perform a small miracle of design. Part of the airflow is directed toward breathing, while another channel is devoted entirely to scent. As they exhale, the air doesn’t simply rush out the front like it would with ours. It escapes through tiny slits on the sides of the nostrils. These slits create tiny vortexes that pull fresh odour molecules inward. Even as these animals breathe out, they’re drawing the world in.
I think of a leopard moving through the Maxabene riverbed, its head low, nostrils flaring gently. To us, the air may seem still and empty. To her, it is thick with signals. Perhaps the sharp tang of a hyena that passed recently, the earthy musk of impala, the faint rot of a distant carcass. Every molecule tells her something – who was here, how long ago, what condition they were in, even which direction they moved. She reads the landscape in scent, the way we might read tracks in the sand.
Elephants live in a vast ocean of smell. With their trunks lifted to the wind, they gather entire stories. The arrival of another herd, the fruiting of marula trees, and the proximity of water. Their sense of smell is believed to be among the most powerful in the animal kingdom. To watch an elephant pause with its trunk gently sampling the air is to watch past memories unfold. Scent layered upon scent, history floating across the landscape in a form invisible to us.
One morning just over a week ago, with a steady south-easterly wind blowing across the reserve, we watched a lone hyena emerge from the thickets. Her nose was high and her gait purposeful. She began to move across the open crest, tacking from side to side almost like a sailboat working into the wind. Each time the scent ran cold, she’d correct her course, calibrating constantly, staying true to whatever invisible thread she was following. For fifteen minutes, we watched her work the wind, silent but determined. Eventually, she slowed and stopped at the base of a jackalberry tree.

It is interesting to note that hyenas have slightly longer snouts than the big cats, as well as longer slits on either side of their nostrils. From my observations, I would think it is safe to say their sense of smell as a predator is one of the best out here.
We followed her gaze upwards. Almost completely hidden within the dense upper foliage lay a young female leopard, her impala carcass hanging beside her. She must have made the kill the previous day. The hyena lay down beneath the tree, patient and expectant. She had sailed the invisible seas of scent across over a kilometre of bush and arrived precisely at her destination.
What fascinates me most is how smell bridges time. A sight vanishes the instant you blink, a sound fades the moment it is made, but a scent lingers. It holds the presence of the past. That’s why predators can follow a trail long after the animal that left it has gone. The air remembers.
And perhaps this is just one of many quiet teachings the wild offers us, to pay more attention to what we cannot see. Each animal is confined to its unique combination of physical senses, humans included. We live in a narrow spectrum of a much greater whole, and it is easy for us to mistake the edges of our perception for the edges of reality. There is so much more happening out there if you observe things with deep curiosity. If only we would learn to sense with more than our eyes.







Smashing essay, Matt. So many nuggets of information, such as the nostril slits. And a new meme: ‘[t]he air remembers.’
Great blog, Matt. It is really so interesting to experience the world of scents the animals can smell and we can only guess.
Hi Matt, these animals of the bush have incredible senses and you naming the smelling sense for the animals is absolutely vital for them for survival. We must take note of the way these amazing animals react, then we will be able to understand them much better.
Hi Matt, we surely sharpened vision as a primary sense in a long long way to today of evolution… none the less, as blind people excell in playing piano, I remember as a young child I was often ill and kept in dark rooms. I sharpened my hearing when I hadn’t otitis. Actually, I spent most of the time listening to the music and voices. When I didn’t feel too dizzy I loved reading. I found out I could tell different sounds good, whereas other people didn’t so well… deaf people have their different way too… so animals. Bats among mammals for example. Insects…
Even though most of us utilize our five senses within our home environment, there is something different about spending time in the wild, away from civilization that heightens a certain one – smell. From the time of arrival, sight, sound and smell kick into high gear. Early morning is my favorite time when it’s still dark and the sense of smell leads me into the day – fresh scent of coffee, the wild herbs/grasses still wet with dew, as well as the musty smell of animals hidden in the trees or brush as we head into the drive. I vividly remember encountering the smell of a leopards and elephants before ever seeing them and realizing how much stronger the sense of smell is in a natural environment. You are correct in stating that there is so much more for us to discover in the utilization of our senses as long as we continue to use our curiosity.
A really insightful blog, Matt. Thank you!