Awash National Park

Listen first. A dry wind moves through the acacia thorns, and somewhere below you water runs over rock. The ground underfoot is pale and dusty, scattered with dark fragments of old lava. The light here is hard and white at midday and turns gold in the late afternoon. Welcome to Awash National Park, in the Great Rift Valley of Ethiopia, where a river, a volcano and an open plain meet.

The park takes its name from the Awash River. The river rises in the highlands west of Addis Ababa. It then flows north and east into the lowlands. Along its southern edge, the river has cut a deep gorge through volcanic rock. Here is the first surprise. The Awash never reaches the sea. It runs into the Afar lowlands and ends in a chain of salt lakes, swallowed by heat and evaporation in one of the hottest places on Earth.

Near the park headquarters, the river drops over a wide shelf of rock. This is Awash Falls. In the rainy season, the water turns a heavy brown with highland soil and thunders into the gorge. In drier months, the falls split into several separate streams. Either way, the spray cools the air for a few metres around you. Look down into the canyon. Dense green trees line the riverbanks, a sharp contrast to the dry plains above.

Now turn north. On the horizon rises Mount Fentale, a dormant volcano with a broad, broken crater. Its past eruptions left the black lava fields that you can see across parts of the park. The rock is sharp and full of small holes, where gas escaped as the lava cooled. Volcanic steam still rises from cracks on the mountain's slopes. The land here is not finished. The Rift Valley is slowly pulling apart, and Fentale is one sign of that movement deep below.

Between the volcano and the river lies the heart of the park — a wide, open grassland. Locals and rangers often call these the Ilala Sala plains. At first, the grass looks empty. Wait a moment and let your eyes adjust. Shapes appear in the heat haze. A line of tall, straight horns catches the light. Those horns belong to the Beisa oryx, a desert antelope with a black and white face that looks almost painted.

The oryx is perfectly built for this place. It can survive long periods without drinking. It gets much of its water from plants and from the morning dew. Nearby, you may see Soemmerring's gazelle, pale and quick, with a white rump that flashes when it runs. Watch the thorn bushes closely, too. The tiny Salt's dik-dik hides there. It is an antelope barely the height of a large cat, with huge dark eyes.

Here is a second surprise, and it concerns the baboons. Two different species of baboon live in this region. Hamadryas baboons live in the dry northeast. Olive baboons, also called anubis baboons, live in the wetter highlands. Along the Awash River, their ranges meet. The two species mix and produce hybrids. Scientists have studied this zone for decades, because it shows how species behave when their worlds overlap.

You can often tell them apart by sight. Adult male hamadryas baboons have a thick, silver-grey cape of hair over their shoulders, and pink faces. Olive baboons are darker and greener in tone. Hybrids sit somewhere in between. If a troop is near the falls or the river, look for these differences. You may be watching the result of a very long natural experiment.

The birdlife here is remarkable. More than four hundred species have been recorded in and around the park. On the open plains, look for ostriches and for large bustards walking slowly through the grass. The kori bustard is one of the heaviest flying birds in the world. Around the river and the hot springs, smaller birds are everywhere — bright bee-eaters, rollers in shades of blue, and many hornbills with their heavy curved beaks.

In the north of the park, at a place called Filwoha, warm water rises from the ground. These hot springs form clear blue pools, surrounded by tall doum palms. A doum palm is a desert palm with branching trunks, unusual among palms. The pools look inviting, and the water is warm enough to steam on a cool morning. Crocodiles have been reported in the area, so ask your guide or a ranger before going anywhere near the water's edge.

People have shaped this landscape for a very long time. Karrayu Oromo herders and Afar pastoralists graze cattle, goats and camels in and around the park. You may see a herder walking with a long stick across the shoulders, or a line of camels moving slowly along the road. The national park was created in the 1960s. Since then, the needs of wildlife and the needs of local herders have been a constant and difficult balance.

The modern world also passes through. The main road from Addis Ababa to the port of Djibouti crosses the park, and heavy trucks rumble past day and night. The railway to Djibouti runs nearby as well. Just south of the park, Lake Basaka has grown steadily over recent decades, flooding farmland and roads. Scientists link its growth to changes in groundwater and irrigation. It is another reminder that this valley is always changing.

If you are here with a vehicle and a ranger, take your time on the plains. Early morning and late afternoon are the best hours for animals, when the heat softens and the shadows grow long. Drive slowly. Stop often. Turn off the engine and listen. The quiet of the plain is part of the experience — insects, wind in the grass, the distant call of a bird you may never see.

Before you leave, stand still for one more moment. Feel the warm air on your skin and the crunch of lava gravel under your shoes. Look north to the broken rim of Fentale, then down to the green ribbon of the river in its gorge. Animals that need very little water live here beside a river that never reaches the sea. As you walk back, keep your eyes on the thorn bushes. Something small and watchful may be looking back at you.