The Kingfisher in the Knobthorn at Little Leadwood

There's a knobthorn tree to the southeast of our pool deck at Little Leadwood. One of its main branches runs almost parallel to the ground, half-dead, bark worn smooth. And, in a perfect deliberate little hollow carved into that branch, a woodland kingfisher made its home.

We noticed it sometime around December. A flash of electric blue and white, impossibly vivid against the dry African sky. Then the call - that unmistakable, descending trill that seems to bounce off every surface before disappearing into the Rietspruit Game Reserve beyond. If you've heard it, you know. If you haven't, it's the sound that makes you stop whatever you're doing and just listen.

What struck us most wasn't the nest itself, though the choice of location. It was the curiosity. This bird watched us as much as we watched it. It would drop down to the edge of the pool, take a drink, and then sit there for a moment. Just sitting, observing - before launching back into the knobthorn with the kind of effortless precision that makes you feel slightly embarrassed about your own coordination.

Some mornings it would disappear for hours. Off exploring the reserve, no doubt. Then it would reappear without warning, back on its branch, calling once as if to let us know it was home.

The big animals get all the attention out on the Leadwood Big Game Estate, and rightly so. There's nothing quite like looking up from your coffee to find an elephant twenty metres away. But there's something quietly wonderful about the smaller things. The creatures that choose to live alongside you, rather than pass through. The ones you only notice if you slow down enough to look.

The Little Leadwood patio that overlooks a Knobthorn tree that is home to a Kingfisher.

Friends who've stayed at our private safari villa in Hoedspruit have loved the kingfisher. One couple spent an entire afternoon watching it from the sun loungers, completely ignoring their phones. It became part of the rhythm of the house. You'd check for it the way you check the weather.

Now, at the beginning of April, the hole in the knobthorn branch is empty. No doubt, the kingfisher has embarked on its intra-Africa migration. But it will be back. I'm sure of it. The hole is still there, waiting. And when it returns, we'll be ready. Coffees in hand, loungers pulled close to the pool's edge, pretending not to stare.

Some things at Little Leadwood are extraordinary. Others are just quietly perfect.

The kingfisher is both.