The Fynbos Blog

A spell of good weather and a burst of new flowers

Posted on August 10, 2013 by fynbosblog Leave a comment

It has been a gorgeous week on the mountain, with new flowers popping up all over the place. We had a damp start and one morning when it was too wet to run but the dogs and I have had several stunning runs all over the farm and this morning’s weather is glorious so as soon as this blog is finished we’ll be out there again. Next week we are expecting a big storm and our running might be curtailed, so this weekend we are keen to do as much as possible. Poor Jemima Chew is limping and on anti-inflammatories so she can’t come and howls in outrage when we leave. They would go in any weather; for my part I don’t mind the damp mist at all but the pouring rain is not my thing.

Talking of being rained under I’m deluged with work at the moment so haven’t had much time for research. Luckily some things just jump out of the book – instantly and clearly recognisable and this is one of them. Oftia africana, widely dispersed throughout the Cape and apparently flowers all year round though seems to prefer the spring flowering here on the mountain. it is coming out all over the place.

Oftia

Pelargoniums and Babinias are also everywhere, the latter flowering decorously in groups under trees and the former peeping out from thick undergrowth along the roads.

As we climbed up the mountain we saw this Erica with tiny white bells on it, despite my best efforts you can only just see them in this picture. The same variety seems to come with pink bells as well and sometimes they grow side by side

Erica with tiny white bell-like flowers

I can’t find this shrub with a yellow flower in the book so its gone to the unknown album and I’m hoping to get to Kirstenbosch Botannical Gardens this week or next to get some help with these and possibly some additional reference books in preparation for the continued spring explosion.

Unidentified yellow flowering fynbos shrub

There is no difficulty recognising the Microloma tenuifolium, it’s tiny bright coral flowers jump out of the tangled thickets at you. Normally you see them like this one curling and creeping around a wild helichrysum.

Microloma tenuifolia

But yesterday we saw this unusual sight, the Microloma has gone and wound itself round and round this bit of bush and is flowering as a massive head of colour. Amazing!

Microloma tenuiffolia

The Lobostemum continues to blossom all over the mountain, often they are pink, or pinky-blue. In this particular area at the top of the farm they are all blue.

Lebostemum with blue flowers

Finally as we ran down the mountain we came across this magnificent Lucodendrum. Later in the spring these yellow flowers will turn the most beautiful shade of coral. There are masses of them and we look forward to their arrival at the height of spring.

Leucodendrum

A spring weekend

Posted on August 4, 2013 by fynbosblog One comment

I have been away too much over the past few weeks and am overjoyed to be back on the farm for a few weeks before I have to do any serious travel again. The last post talked about the Bulbinia fragens, the harbinger of spring. Spring here does not arrive over many weeks as it does in Europe. Within one unseasonably warm week I have returned to find the farm full of new flowers. This is building up to the height of the flowering season for Fynbos and the next few months are going to see an explosion of life. I’m already struggling to keep up – this blog will be quite long and I’ll be trying to keep regular posts so that we capture as much as possible of what’s happening on the mountain.

I’ve been looking out for this flower – it’s a dear friend, one of the first that made me realise the special nature of our fynbos bulbs. This photo is quite deceptive as this is a tiny iris-like flower – each petal not much bigger than my fingernail. This is Moraea tripelata and it has started to flower all over the farm. I spotted it first thing when I went running with the dogs on Saturday morning.

Moraea tripetala

Peter then took us up to see the work he’s been doing clearing alien vegetation, especially the Port Jackson trees that choke the river. Every winter when the planting on the farm is done he attached this for a few weeks. Two winters ago we cleared around the waterfall and what was a chocked up watercourse that you couldn’t see is now full of vibrant fynbos life. He has just opened up this area, so dense with trees that you couldn’t get into it and has found the spot where the two rivers that run through the farm meet, before tumbling down the mountain to add their waters to the mighty Berg River that runs through the Paarl valley below us.

Clearing alien trees along the river

The place where the two rivers meet

In the late afternoon I took some guests on our first “Flower safari” of the year. All we did was walk down the front drive and we were enchanted with the profusion of flowers we came across, many old friends that we have posted before, and quite a few new ones.

First of all we came across this tiny white gladiolus. I first saw it at the top of the bank, which gives an idea of scale.

Unknown gladiolus

Then I realised they are growing along the side of the road. I cannot find this one in my book at all – not even in the bulb encyclopedia. I’ve done this before, failed to identify a flower and then realised I’m not looking properly at the description, so if I do realise what it is, I’ll post it. It is quite enchanting, with a delicate fragrance, like so many of the gladioli.

Gladiolus unidentified

Then we came across another example of the bell like pink Erica that I posted last week, this time a lot closer to home.

Erica with pink bells

There are masses of these on the drive, and masses of what I guess to be Erica daphniflora, in colours of green, white, red and a particularly vibrant pink.

Erica, probably daphniflora

The Oxalis are still flowering away, these ones in white and pink profuse along the bank and the lands still covered in the yellow ones.

Oxalis

The next new find was this Erica – you can see it’s quite distinctive in the way it grow and flowers and the little white bells have the brown anthers exposed at the end. This was very attractive in the late evening light.

Erica, unidentified

Another new find is this flowering shrub which is common all over the farm. I have always assumed it to be Cape Confetti, but with my evolving botannical eye I think it is more likely to be Adenandra villas, possily . I’m sure I will have many more occassions to photograph this stunning shrub.

Cape confetti – coleonem album or adenandra villas?

As I was showing our guests one of the Protea nerifolias along the road we saw this little bud. We were delighted as it means these glorious proteas are going to continue to flower for some time.

The bud of a Protea nerifolia

The Felicia is such a wonderful flower. This is the first one I have seen this year and it will flower from now until the summer, along with the Lobostemum it is one of our commonest shrubs. That makes the first sighting of these pretty lilac flowers with their yellow centres no less exciting, both for their own sake and the promise of more spring flowers to come.

Felicia filifolia

This warm weather won’t be with us for long, with temperatures expected to plummet during the week. Luckily up here on the mountain we almost never go below 5 degrees, so the flowers will be safe. In the valley below it can freeze, but the moutain seems to hold the heat of summer and protects us from the coldest weather.

We are coming into the best season for sunsets. Yet another amazing sunset this evening as I was finishing some more traditional gardening and the mountains behind turned a glorious orangey-pink.

Babinia Fragrens, the Harbinger of Spring

Posted on July 26, 2013 by fynbosblog 2 comments

I got home on Tuesday morning and of course my first thought was to get up on the mountain and see new flowers though I didn’t achieve it until late in the day.

Every year as we reach the end of July, the coldest and wettest six weeks of the Cape year, a flower emerges that is for me the harbinger of spring. Like hearing the first cuckoo, I always note where and when I see the first Babinia fragrens. These crocus-like flowers cover the farm, they are everywhere – and the bulbs are particularly loved by porcupines. Last year I was running up a steep hill on the farm when I came across a 300 metre stretch of road where a happy porcupine had wandered up and dug up every single plant to munch on the bulbs. There are plenty to share and it was fun to think of him happily crunching not far from the house in the night as we slept.

Babinia Fragens, the first of the year

Next up was this delicate white flower. I didn’t get a great picture of it – I think it’s a Cape Snowflake, to give it it’s common name, but will pop it into the research folder and see if we can get a better shot. These are quite common so I’m sure we’ll see more.

Opposite the Cape Snowflake, the water was tumbling in huge volumes down the waterfall in the evening sunlight – there’s been a lot of rain while I’ve been away.

One of the other wonderful sights of late winter and early spring is the Lebostemum. Another very common flowering shrub which flowers now and for several months. I have tried several times to transplant these to the garden, but they have a long fragile tap root and even very young ones invariably die. They are magnificent shrubs and flower in blue, pink or anything inbetween.

Lobostemon fructicosus

We wanted a good view of the sunset and went to the highest point of the farm on a road we don’t often run. This wonderful combination of Protea nerifolia and Protea nitida blocked our route at one point and forced a detour.

Protea nerifolia and Protea nitida in the evening light

On the detour we came across this stunning Erica with little pink bell-like flowers in full bloom. Pink ericas with bell-like or urn-like flowers are like yellow daisies, there are an aweful lot of them and they are hard to tell apart. Thanks due to Jemima Chew who stood behind them, making them much easier to photograph!

One of the many ericas that flowers with a tiny pink bell-like flower

The Cape Sugarbirds are in full mating feathers at the moment and they are having a lovely time in areas where the proteas are thickest. Their tails are so long they can hardly fly – that’s the males of course, the females look drab and take their pick. I haven’t yet managed to get a really good shot of one but hopefully it’s a matter of time.

I don’t believe we have posted and recorded this protea which is now in full flower.

Protea – indentification will be confirmed in a further posting

Finally – another sunset. As dusk gathers and the sun sets you can see the mist from the Berg River gathering on the valley floor. No wind, the light is stunning and in the far distance table mountain and the whole of Cape Town is covered by a dark wall of cloud. The rain is coming.

Misty weekend and new paths

Posted on July 18, 2013 by fynbosblog Leave a comment

It is a sultry night in Chicago as I write this and when I sit in hotel rooms alone I always feel disconnected from the farm. Writing this blog helps bring me home.

I am always irritated by typos but trying to get this blog posted in the middle of a busy trip, so please forgive them when they occur.

We’ve had some spectacular weather, which finally broke on Friday night with rain showers hammering down on the roof and we woke up to a misty Saturday as the farm sat in the clouds. It eased off a bit in the afternoon and Peter and I took the dogs for a walk; he wanted to show me where he has opened a road up through undisturbed fynbos

Peter and Maebh exploring the new road through an undiscovered and unknown terrace high on the mountain (508M)

In doing so we’ve discovered a series of terraces which must have been built generations ago by people scraping an existence out of this fragile land. What they grew here we cannot imagine. Now it is wild fynbos and disturbing amount of invasive plants including braken and brambles.

I captured quite a few new things and was only able to identify the creeping rambling pea, which satisfactorily grows by sources of water. We’ve always known this robust fynbos must have a permanent water source close to the surface and this proves it. My reference books are heavy to carry on these trips so the formal identification will follow when I’m home again.

A rambling pea-flower that grows close to rivers and sources of surface water

Meanwhile a series of plants I have not been able to identify and which confirm that I need some help and more reference book for when the going gets technical. With less travel coming up in the month of August, this will take priority, especially with spring about to burst upon us.

There are many succulents on the farm and I have not been recording them – this particular one is quite visible at the moment on the roads and paths.

A common succulent on one of the farm roads

Another plant looking for attention is this prickly thing which has round fruits… I shall keep investigating, there is probably a flowering season which would help me to identify it.

Full of prickles and with a round green fruit – this must have a flowering season that will help with identification

Finally this asparagus-like shrub is quite common here and glowing green with late winter spurting of growth. It doesn’t feature among the asparagus section of my books (which includes Agapanthus, who knew?) and doesn’t seem to be a bulb or corm (sp?) yet is very distinctive and common enough to suggest that it belongs here. I have established a collection of “more research required” and will report back in due course.

Fluffy and asparagus-like – this shrub’s new grow glows emerald green in the gloomy light

Not terribly satisfying for the purposes of record, but one of the nicest tours of the farm we’ve done. Peter and I rarely get out there together, and exploring new, previously inaccessible areas was very exciting. There were amazing bird sightings. This area is full of Cape Sugarbirds who are in full season at the moment and the males have tails so long they can barely fly – I really will try and capture one when I’m home again And earlier, on a run with the dogs, I saw an African Harrier Hawk (what used to be called a Gymnagee) being attacked by two Fork Tailed Drongas, only a fraction of his size but clearly very cross with him. I’ve seen this in the bush before but never at home on the farm – a very special moment that even the amazing iphone couldn’t quite capture in time.

One last fynbos flower was also on the new road and is remarkable in being both stunning and distinctive. I will identify it in a later blog and look out for it elsewhere on the farm. Happily we caught it in the perfect peak of bloom with soft yellow flowers all along the grey-green stems of this happy and healthy shrub. I would not be at all surprised to find it is a common garden plant – will check with the books.

A stunning shrub I haven’t seen before that could belong in any garden. I identified it before leaving and will revert with a name

Philosophical musings, buchu and wild rosemary

Posted on July 13, 2013 by fynbosblog Leave a comment

I don’t remember all that much about my schooldays, more important things have happened since. But I clearly remember one lesson. Mr Clifford, the science teacher, was explaining the structure of an atom. Someone asked the inevitable question “but if we can’t see it, how do we know it is there?” “Ah”, said Mr Clifford tapping the table in front of him, “but how do we know anything is there, how do we know this table is here? But”, he said, “that’s philosphy.”

That question really caught my imagination, and years later when I was studying philosophy at Trinity College Dublin, I read Bertrand Russell’s The Problems of Philosphy where that question about the table comes under discussion. As does another question: that of truth and knowledge. Simply put, I know all bachelors are men because that lies within the very meaning of the word men “bachelor”. Similarly, can I know that all swans are white? No, I have to keep seeing swans and noting their whiteness. One day I’ll go to Australia, or the zoo, and see a black swan. Whiteness is not a defining factor of swans; that was Russell’s point.

It was buchu that led to these musings as the dogs and I ran this morning. We grow buchu commercially and I always have the notion that buchu flowers are white. As we peaked at the highest point of the run and headed down the moutain (always a very happy moment in the morning run) I suddenly saw this flash of lilac.

Buchu – in this case a hybrid of Agthomsa Crenulata, with an unusual mauve coloured flower

I stopped at once, and low and behold it was a little buchu plant, a hybrid from the farm, with lilac coloured flowers. They were hard to photograph in the dim morning light – I can’t wait for the days to lengthen so that photography becomes easier in the early mornings when I run. Where did this purple come from?

In referring to the books, buchu, or Agthomsa as it is properly known, can indeed flower in mauve. Rather like a swan can be black.

The buchu harvested on our farm is mostly a hybrid. The oils are distilled from the leaves and is used in the European food flavouring and perfume industry, mostly for its strong blackcurrent flavour and smell. Here in South Africa it is used medicinally, it is one of the oldest medicinal flowers in the Cape, indeed in the world. Personally I believe in its natural anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant properties and I love its aniseed, fennel like flavour and drink a cup or two most days.

Agthomsa crenulata hypbrid: this plant is farmed here and harvested for its essential oils

The other highly aromatic plant on the farm at this time of year is the wild rosemary. This grey scrubby bush used to irritate me, but no longer. Running my hand down the leaves and smelling the rosemary scent, seeing the lands full of shrubs and this exquisite, delicate flower has become a winter joy.

Eriocephalus africanus or wild rosemary

Wild rosemary has taken over this land on the lower slopes of the farm

We are enjoying a mid-winter break at the moment. Winters in the Cape can be long and stormy and sometimes quite cold. This year we are enjoying a warm July. Here in Africa the temperatures are as warm as an Irish summer – over 25 degrees during the day. It’s a bit confusing for the poor plants though and I’m sure we’ll see some strange flowering dates as a result.

The mornings are clear and lovely. As we ran we saw the first rays of sun over the Simmonsberg to the South West. A joyous morning.

The first rays of sun on the Simonsberg

Proteas, Montinea and another glorious sunset

Posted on July 7, 2013 by fynbosblog Leave a comment

Most of this Sunday it drizzled, a slow cold Irish-type drizzle, the kind of soft grey day we don’t often get here. We huddled up in the study before a blazing fire and watched Andy Murray win the tennis at Wimbledon. He wrapped it up pretty quickly, and by the time he’d finished it wasn’t yet dark and I felt in need of exercise after a cold damp weekend, so I put on some running shoes, to the delight of the dogs, and set off up into the mountain with pounding paws and wagging tails leading the way.

I hesitate to say we see something new every single time we go out, but it does feel like it. On Wednesday we came across this Montinia caryophyllacea by the side of the road as we ran up the mountain. I’d taken a picture of it, but these white flowers are hard to photograph when there isn’t enough light. Today was a bit better, though I still need to go up in full daylight to get a better picture. There seems quite a lot of it coming into flower so I’m sure we’ll find more in better light.

Montinia caryophyllacea

That part of the mountain is covered with Muraltia heisteria – it’s not supposed to be flowering at this time of year but this does seem a perfect match. They are lovely, the colours vibrant in the evening light. We’ve seen these before; their vibrant colour means they deserve the occasional picture as they are long flowering and dominate the winter months.

Muraltia heisteria

I’m learning to question everything, and although our Protea nerifolia does come in cream as well as pink and this is probably nerifolia (looking at the leaves) we need a bit more research to be sure. It’s a lovely flower and there are hundreds of these shrubs flowering on the farm at the moment. The house is filled with vases full of proteas, leucadendrons and oddly enough the most wonderful camelias which thrive in the acid sandstone and decomposing granite (and lots of good compost) of the garden here and flower all winter long.

Protea (nerifolia?)

Quite quickly it was far too dark to take good pictures of flowers and although I saw the first of one of our favourite late winter shrubs, we will have to wait another day for a photo (that’s today’s new flower). As the sun dropped behind the Paarderberg mountain, we trotted quietly down the montain, remembering to turn around from time to time to see the glow reflected in pink and orange on the moutains behind.

There is something emotional about a sunset. This evening the air was completely still, quite rare here in the montains. After a rainy day, the sky cleared and the sun broke through, flooding the mountains with colour. The river and dams in the valley reflected the deepening sky. The smell after the rain is clean and scented with flowers and rain, washed and pure and you want to breathe deeply, happily. We were so glad to be up there this evening, thanks to Andy who polished off his victory in time for us to catch this glorious sunset on the night of his even more glorious victory.

Sunsets and Pelargonium

Posted on July 3, 2013 by fynbosblog 2 comments

This morning’s surprise is this lovely Pelargonium. When I’ve had a series of new sightings I’m not necessarily expecting something new every time I go up on the mountain and I’m delighted when we (the dogs and I) come across some enchanting flower waving its petals at us in the dawn light. This is another of the mysterious Pelargoniums – I was so pleased to see this one, and thought we must be able to identify it, it’s so clear and distinctive. Well, I must tell you it is not in the book and a visit to Kirstenbosch with the hopes of a specialised book on Pelargoniums (or is it Perlargonia?) is on the cards very soon. This doesn’t appear to be in the rather good Fynbos Field Guide where 24, presumably of the most common, of the 150 fynbos subspieces occur. This farm is a source of lots of different sub-spieces of Pelargonium and Ericas. I will catalogue them and maybe work through them over time…

The farm sits on an East West Axis, and from here, 70 km away through the clear air, we see Table Mountain, behind which the sun sets in the spring and autumn months. Some nights, at any time of the year, the sun floods the mountains behind us with pink light. It’s not every night, in fact it’s not common at all. Last night I was working away at my desk when an instinct brought me out to look at the light – sure enough, pink mountains. I grabbed the iphone, ran to the dam wall, pursued by delighted dogs, and took this photo. We’ll see have better and pinker mountains to come, but this is the first I’ve captured for the blog. It’s about the flowers, but it’s not all about the flowers.

The Rooi Afrikaner or Gladiolus watsonius – a technical blog

Posted on July 1, 2013 by fynbosblog Leave a comment

For at least four weeks I’ve been frustrated by this glorious red gladiolus.

Gladiolus watsonius

The species is easy to identify, the subspecies has been confusing; our first sighting was at the end of May and the book says it doesn’t flower until August. Even the more detailed encyclopedia says that it flowers from July to September. Furthermore it grows in clay and granite slopes in renosterveld. We have granite and sandstone slopes which is a subtle but important difference when it comes to fynbos. Over the weekend I got more serious and looked more closely – the only possible suspect was Gladiolus priorii. But Gladiolus priorii has a yellow throat and although I didn’t have a photo of the throat, I was pretty sure it’s not yellow. I couldn’t really bring myself to believe that we have a previously unidentified Gladiolus on the far, tempting though it might be.

Today I picked one.

It had fallen over a bit on the bank above the drive, it’s a bit tatty and it was time to take this whole process of identification a bit more seriously. And I can reveal that Gladiolus watsonius has one particular distinction. The lowermost leaf is narrow and H shaped in cross-section. No I didn’t get the scalpel out – I’m not that much of a geek yet. It’s pretty obvious just looking at it.

The lowermost leaf of Gladiolus watsonius

We have a positive identification – it may be the wrong time of year, it may not be quite the right soil-type but there is no doubt: Gladiolus watsonius likes Du Toitskloof and it likes our farm. It flowers when it chooses to and it’s not going to change, so the sages who write the books may need to change a word or two.

Gladiolus watsonius

Magnificent Proteas, more water and some new finds

Posted on June 30, 2013 by fynbosblog One comment

There is a lot to share so today’s blog is all flowers and less about the run.

Up until now I’ve been going by the flowering dates shown in my reference book but I’m now not so sure. I know from the records I’ve kept over the years that the different weather can mean flowering even in the garden here can vary by a month or six weeks from year to year, so why not the fynbos.

Stachys aethiopica, for instance, is supposed to flower in August and September, in the early spring. But we saw one in May and there are small groups of them in different areas at the moment. They are unmistakeable with their flower reminiscent of a pelargonium and distinctive mint-like leaves. Indeed they are a member of lamiaceae, the mint family

Stachys aethiopica

The red gladiolus has cropped up in a few places. There was one by the road when I left in early May that was easily photographed. The latest two are high on the bank above the drive, but worth sharing even if the photo isn’t great. The nearest possibility is gladiolus priorii, though in that case the flowers should be dull red and these are a vibrant scarlet. It should also have a distinctive and easily visible yellow throat and I can see no evidence of that in our flower. I will look again as the size, shape and flowering season fit. I need to look a little closer if one appears in a more accessible area. If not, we’ll have to wait until next year to be sure.

Gladiolus – unamed

The dogs and I had a wonderful run today and we visited the weir to see how much water is flowing. This is always a lovely place; the whitish trunks of the Ilex Mitis or Cape Holly, are magnificent and the permanent water flow makes it a favourite of the dogs.

An ancient Ilex Mitis with its feet in a permanent stream

Jemima Chew enjoying the water in the weir

While I’ve been away the magnificent protea trees have come into flower. They are tall and have spikey white flowers and silver leaves. I believe they are Protea nitida.

Protea – probably nitida

Near them stands this delicate pink protea. It is probably a nerifolia, though the flowers are barely bearded and a paler pink than most of the nerifolio on this farm.

Protea nerifolia – a very pale pink specimen

Flowers found in the forest that abutts the farm are included in our blogs as they are on our regular running route. We’ve seen Ursinia paelacea before and there is lots of it along the forest roads.

Urisinia palaecea

Not everything is easily identified. This little clump of yellow daisy-like flowers is lovely and quite distinctive but I can find no record of them. Suggestions welcome.

A mystery flower – yellow daisy-like flowers are the hardest to identify

As we ran into the forest the path is lined with Leucadendron salignum. There are hundreds of these all over the farm. At this time of year they glow in the dark, another plant that seems to absorb the sunlight and render it back to us on the darker days. Today was bright and they gleam in the early winter sun.

Leudadendron gleaming in the winter sunlight

Flowing Water and Fowers – 28 June 2013

Posted on June 29, 2013 by fynbosblog Leave a comment

Home. The desert sands of Qatar behind me at last. It was a shock to return to glorious green after the thick humid sandy air of Doha. It seems it’s done nothing but rain since we left home three weeks ago and the farm has a rich sodden feel to it, with water roaring through the river and tumbling down the waterfall. The roads are in need of maintenance, full of rivulets and potholes but the seeds I planted in the garden before we left have all sprouted into healthy young plants and the fynbos is settling into a winter burst of life. Seamus, the senior wolfhound, is joyous at my return and cannot bear to leave my side.

The dogs and I went for an evening walk, inspecting some of our usual routes, the dogs looking for new smells, and me looking for new flowers. We started down in the stream below the house that leads to the damn. The banks are lined with Arum Lilies at this time of year. Just as the luminous grasses have disappeared the lilies flower along the rivers and roads all winter and their beauty speaks for itself. We have a few months of them ahead, and there will be a lot more pictures to come.

Arum Lilies

The great thing about this blog is that it focuses the mind on home, on the magnificence of this land and the plants that grow here. I’ve seen Chasmathe all over the Cape, they remind me of the Montbretia that grown wild in Ireland, another South African wild flower that grows all over Ireland’s verges and banks in the summer. At first I thought it was the same flower but Montbretia doesn’t grow in this part of the world, it belongs further north in a summer rainfall area. This Chasmanthe is lovely, another of the anchors of a certain time of year, this winter time, when growth is rich and lush and yet only a herald of things to come.

Chasmanthe, most likely floribunda, but to be verified

When we moved to the farm eight years ago this little red creeper was one of the first flowers to awake my interest in fynbos. The flowers are tiny, smaller than my little fingernail and they appear suddenly in midwinter, winding around the stems of thicker fynbos. Despite their tiny size the jewel-like coral jumps out of the greenery and draws the eye. We will have them until mid-spring or later, all over the farm.

Microloma tenuifolium

We could hear the waterfall long before we saw it – with the rainfall we’ve had in June the rivers on the farm are roaring and the land feels replenished.

As we walked along the new road that leads to the waterfall this enchanting sight greeted us. I don’t know what to say or even think about the

pelargoniums; though are stunning, charming, and endlessly delightful the sub-species seem impossible to identify. Our new road is a pelargonium nursery and they thrive here all year round. At least this one allowed me to take a good picture – gracefully gleaming in the evening light.

Pelargonium – subspecies unknown

Pelargonium

The books have a few pelargoniums but they don’t seem to flower at the right time of the year. We have dozens and the best I can do is document them and find a real expert. Some of those that I’ve transplanted to the garden are doing really well, perhaps that will help. They are endlessly endearing. My grandmother grew them, pelargoniums and geraniums, nursing them through the Irish winters. She would have loved this place; not lush like Ireland with it’s dense choking green; more selective; intense; dramatic – she would most definitely have appreciated the drama. It was her birthday on 22nd June, just after midsummer. I was in Doha, so missed the shortest day of the year on the farm. Today is the shortest day we will see this year, and this is the most north-westerly sunset, far over the Paarderberg.

By mid-summer this sun will set far to the South of Table Mountain.

My love of botany is definitely inspired by her, and by my stepgrandmother, both of whom were dedicated and knowledgable horticulturalists. I thought of them both this evening as we descended in the gloom. Two women, one Irish, one English, both Catholic, both of whom were born in one world war and raised their children through the next. Gracious women, much loved, characters, who instilled in us both values and manners. They loved their gardens and gardening brought them together, unexpectedly and into a lifelong friendship. They admired one another and both of them would like to know they are remembered and that they continue to inspire us.

The Ericas are coming out all over the farm and I have not yet identified this one – a detailed book on Ericas as we as Pelargoniums is most definitely called for. The Erica family runs to 660 subspecies in the fynbos region, so we can’t expect to identify them all, but it will be fun to see how many we have on the farm and I will start a library page on them soon.