… I was immediately swept away by the sheer majesty of nature’s grand spectacle. The golden orb of the African sun bathed the rippling waters in hues of molten fire, while the untamed wilderness on either side whispered secrets of an ancient land. It was in this heart-stirring paradise that my binoculars became a magical portal, opening my eyes to the dazzling avian jewels of Africa.
No birding journey is complete without the ubiquitous African Fish Eagle, its piercing call the soundtrack of the continent. As it soared effortlessly against the endless cerulean sky, I could not help but feel the raw power of nature surging through my very soul. Moments later, a kaleidoscope of color erupted in the form of Lilac-breasted Rollers, their dazzling plumage painting rainbows across the heavens. Truly, this is the bird that makes poets of us all.
Kingfishers flashed like living gemstones along the riverbanks, each dive a ballet of precision, each catch a reminder of nature’s perfection. And just when I thought the day could hold no more magic, a squadron of bee-eaters materialized, their wings slicing the air with breathtaking grace. These winged ballerinas were nothing short of a moving tapestry, weaving beauty into the very fabric of time.
The Zambezi is not merely a river—it is a lifeline, a stage, and a cathedral where every bird becomes a hymn to creation. Every flap of a wing, every ripple in the water, every rustle of reeds is a reminder that here, in this Eden, we are privileged witnesses to the eternal dance of life.
As the sun dipped behind the horizon, painting the sky with brushstrokes of crimson and gold, I realized that birding is more than just a hobby. It is a journey of the soul, an endless quest for wonder, and, above all, a way to connect with the ineffable beauty of our fragile planet.
So, if your heart yearns for adventure, if your spirit longs for communion with the wild, then come—sail down the mighty Zambezi. The birds await, and with them, the promise of memories etched forever in the canvas of your heart.
You may have guessed it – ChatGPT wrote the above. The prompt was as follows:
Can you write a birding blog post starting with the words “While sailing down the mighty Zambezi …”? It should be a post full of cliches and overused phrases, an ironic take on bad birding writing.
And frankly, I think ChatGPT did a wonderful job. Look at some of the weird metaphors and clichéd sentiments, such as
- “The promise of memories etched forever in the canvas of your heart” (perhaps my favorite)
- “Birding is more than just a hobby. It is a journey of the soul, an endless quest for wonder, and, above all, a way to connect with the ineffable beauty of our fragile planet.” (bonus points for using a word, ineffable, that nobody has ever used in the real world)
- “The Zambezi is not merely a river—it is a lifeline, a stage, and a cathedral where every bird becomes a hymn to creation” (mystical mumbo-jumbo, who wants to argue with that)
- “We are privileged witnesses to the eternal dance of life” (hell, yeah, just what I thought after my third beer).
And yet, on a slightly more somber note, it seems that these days my main job as an editor is to weed out guest posts written in exactly the same style ChatGPT makes fun of. Hmm.
Photo: “Zambezi River at junction of Namibia, Zambia, Zimbabwe & Botswana” by Brian McMorrow, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5.
Forgot to mention: The title of the post comes from Peter Penning, though I am not sure he is very proud of this.
Ha! The “mighty Zambezi” is a very worn-out cliché indeed. Almost as much as the cliché activity of whitewater rafting. For birders it is a fantastic river, with beautiful parks on both sides of the river and largely unexplored headwaters in Angola/Zambia. Mwinilunga in Zambia is where the source has been located. Of course, as the Top Gear team proved with the Nile, there is no such thing as a single source for a river (even the mighty ones) but the area is great for birding (Congo biotope without conflict diamonds). Most of the river’s run through Zambia is remote and once the river turns east things become less wild. Less doesn’t mean you can go for a walk in the bush… I am quite keen to explore both the Zambian stretch and the Mozambican stretch. All I need is that winning lottery ticket.