Tag Archives: fynbos flowers

May Day, home, sunset and the warmth of the mountain

Peter and I both agree that although we both hate leaving the farm to travel, usually for work, the best part is coming home. I’ve been in Europe for a couple of days. One night and two days in London; two nights on planes. I arrived home this morning feeling pretty horrible.  This evening in anticipation of a gorgeous sunset, I took the dogs for a walk and the sky lit up with pink and orange out towards the Paaderberg as we walked on the most northern parts of the farm.

A painted sunset, 1 May 2014

A painted sunset, 1 May 2014

 

I took a different path from our running routes and the slower pace of a walk meant that I saw much more than I do on the morning run.  I must do these leisurely walk more often. Three separate daisy-like yellow flowers; always the most frustrating to identify, and a tiny little pelargonium, one of my favourite plants. The mountain was amazing tonight – the days are still warm, but the evenings cool and at dusk you can feel the mountain giving out the warmth it has absorbed during the day into the cool evening air, sending out blasts of heat that I walked through as I returned to the house. The dogs were joyous and Maebh’s pale coat glows in the evening light.

 

Seamus and Maebh in the fynbos

Seamus and Maebh in the fynbos

The Pelargoniums flower here all year round; different plants in different months. Identifying the subspecies is hopeless, but each one gives me great joy.

 

Autumn Pelargonium

Autumn Pelargonium

As for the yellow daisy-like flowers. There are three, all on the same road, within 100 metres of one another. The first is an Osteospermum spinosum I think.

Osteospermum spinosum?

Osteospermum spinosum?

The needle-like leaves could be telltale

The needle-like leaves could be telltale

 

The second has these splendid clustered flowerheads with gorgeous curly stamens on the tips, with a soft grey-green hairy leaf. You would think that would suffice to identify – but no.

 

Clustered yellow flowers

Clustered yellow flowers

 

Something about the flower makes me think Helichrysum but the leaf says not

Something about the flower makes me think Helichrysum but this thick hairy leaf says not

And the last is a perfect yellow daisy, with clustered spiny leaves. I love the way that these three plants tell me how far I’ve come on my fynbos journey. A year ago they would have looked the same to me; the way your friends’ two dogs both look the same to you, but are completely different to them. Now the differences jump out at me, yet I still can’t identify them. I love that too – that the fynbos journey is without end.  I’ll probably never be able to identify every single plant on the farm, a mere pinprick within the Cape Floral Kingdom. But I won’t stop trying.

 

A perfect daisy, but which perfect daisy?

A perfect daisy, but which perfect daisy?

It's a small shrub with little needly clustered leaves

It’s a small plant with little needly clustered leaves

Torrid days and windy nights on the mountain

The Western Cape sat under a torrid heatwave last week and over the weekend.  I watched the new plants in the garden anxiously, hoping they wouldn’t give up the ghost on us but with plenty of watering they seem to have survived the worst.  It suddenly cooled on Monday, still sunny but a good 10 degrees cooler – 28 is very different from 38.  And cool and damp in the evening, enough to need a sweater.  With the cooler weather came the wind, howling and screaming around the mountain, stronger at night, trying to get the roof off, blow the trees down and blasting the autumn leaves off the trees.

Yesterday I had an early start dropping Peter to the airport, so I couldn’t run and by the time I got home in the evening after a day of meetings and errands I’d taken a pill for an incoming migraine, which also precludes running.  So the dogs and I went walking instead.  The wind howled around us, but the mountain was beautiful, glorious even, with the sun setting in the western sky.  I sometimes wonder why I don’t take crisper photos, and last night was a good reminder of the answer to that.  I defy anyone to take a perfectly crisp photo when the subject is leaping, dancing or even merely quivering in the wind.  Still, with a lot of patience we captured a few flowers in between the gusts.  This time of year is exciting with lots of new growth and even flowering bulbs starting to push their way above the ground.  Some of the flowers we won’t see until August are already sending forth their shoots and it’s fun to recognize them as old friends.

An old friend from one of my earliest blogs is this, very common, plant.  Last year I incorrectly identified it as a Crassula but I know better now.  There is a resemblance to the Metalasia family, in part because of the rolled leaves with tufts of smaller leaves in the axis.  But the the flowers don’t fit.  Another for the unidentified file though it is irritating when the species is so common.

Unidentified and very common

Unidentified and very common

 

The same flower in close up - impossible to get a perfect shot in the howling wind

The same flower in close up – impossible to get a perfect shot in the howling wind

 

The evening light in the olive groves was stunning

The evening light in the olive groves was stunning

Even at the end of the summer there is still plenty of water coming down the fall

Even at the end of the summer there is still plenty of water coming down the fall

The wind took out our wifi connection, so this is written and sent in an early morning hurry from Cape Town International.  We are off to the bush for Easter.

Sunny Days

With Peter away Anna, a Swedish friend, came to stay the night and we started the evening with a sunset walk on the mountain.  We finished the evening, needless to say, with far too much wine and lots of chat!  Anna is a proper walker and I wanted to capture some flowers I’d seen out running so we set off in the gorgeous evening light with a specific aim in mind.  As always the mountain was stunning in the evening the dogs were bounding with joy as we chatted and walked.

Metalasia densa is not particularly beautiful or charming but it is very common.  The book says it is winter flowering, but here it seems to like the summer’s heat, or maybe it’s because we’ve had a wet year.  In either case it is everywhere.  Like so many flowers that are not necessarily beautiful at a distance, it is rather lovely in close up.

Metalasia densa, a rather scruffy shrub

Metalasia densa, a rather scruffy shrub

Metalasia densa, the flower in close up

Metalasia densa, the flower in close up

To my great joy this gorgeous Erica has burst into flower at the top of the mountai.   This is Erica nudiflora, delighting us with a flash of pink as we crossed the road at the top of the farm.  Anna is great company, very chatty and interested in everything and she finds my enthusiasm for these floral finds quite entertaining.   She was very tolerant of having to interrupt both walk and chat while I try to photograph flowers in the fading light and the wind.

Erica nudiflora

Erica nudiflora

 

The flowers of Erica nudiflora in close up

The flowers of Erica nudiflora in close up

Of course proteas are the statement flowers on the mountain and the fabulous Protea nerifolia is coming into flower.  I am sure we’ll have many photos of these over the coming months, the flowering season is long and they are particularly beautiful, with their pink petals and shaggy beard.  This is the first of the year, taken at the lowest point of the farm.

Protea nerifolia

Protea nerifolia

 

Leucadendron salignum?

Leucadendron salignum?

This picture comes from an early morning run over the weekend; I couldn’t resist the morning light shining through the the new growth of this Leucadendron – most probably salignum.

And this last photo was taken yesterday evening, Sunday, as the sun set behind Paarl mountain and the valley was golden pink.  We’ve been having amazing weather since it stopped raining.

Sunset over the valley

Sunset over the valley

 

Helichrysum Days

I try to write this blog at least once a week, sometimes more, with the aim of staying  current with  the flowering cycle on the mountain.  For some reason the past 10 days have been particularly busy.  We had a series of guests, family and friends, which is wonderful although it puts paid to quiet nights when we can watch TV and write blogs.  Then horses and dogs have needed trips to the vet.  The magnificent Seamus has had a bad time.  He got a tummy bug, received treatment and then had a frightening adverse reaction to the treatment.  It is a well documented allergy, but so rare that our vet had never seen it.  Two days of worry later he is much better although his back legs are not working perfectly and we don’t know if he hurt himself, or if it’s a consequence of the neurological reaction he suffered from.  He’s not in pain; he would tell us if he was, but it will be at least a few more days before he’s allowed running on the mountain again.

The horses were just getting all their routine annual innoculations, check-ups, dentistry and so on. All of which needs doing but is rather time consuming along with work and the guests.  I must remember next year how busy this time of year can be and plan a little bit better.

Peter’s business has picked up and while we wouldn’t say orders are flooding in, the painful trickle has certainly become a steady trickle.  Which should be wonderful except that labour protests are growing in South Africa and he had a sit in strike at the factory today.  Fortunately it was resolved quite quickly.  How frustrating finally to have some business, so that we can potentially pay more and afford bigger bonuses and instead be dealing with strikes and knowing our overseas customers are watching this and wondering whether SA is the right place to do business.  That’s not to be negative, just realistic.  Peter is brilliant at managing these situations and he will sort it out.

To my delight there are all sorts of happenings on the mountain which make running a pleasure.  In particular several different Helicrysums are in flower.  Plants that flower at this time of year tend to have dry looking or tiny flowers that can cope with the potential heatwave as you can see from these pictures.

Helichrysum Flowers

Helichrysum Flowers

Helichrysum flowers - a different sub-species

Helichrysum flowers – a different sub-species

 

Yet another variety to be found here on the mountain: Helichrysum flowers

Yet another variety to be found here on the mountain: Helichrysum flowers

A cloud of Helichrysum in the morning light, this one situated in the heart of the olive groves; they grow all over the farm

A cloud of Helichrysum in the morning light, this one situated in the heart of the olive groves; they grow all over the farm

I started this blog last year in March when the first of the proteas came into bloom.  So it is exciting to witness the burgeoning of protea life as the shrubs of Protea repens are covered in buds and will flower in the next few weeks.  That, for me, is the start of our flowering year and I cannot wait.

The Protea repens is budding, a harbinger of summer's end.  The first flowers will emerge well before the autumn rains

The Protea repens is budding and heralds the end of summer. The first flowers will emerge well before the autumn rains

 

We have exceptional sunsets at this time of year.  Almost every night and it is a lovely time to walk around the farm.  With Seamus on the sick list we haven’t gone far and last night I took this picture of the farmhouse with the pink mountains behind us.

 

Pink sunset on the mountains

Pink sunset on the mountains

Sometimes we can get strange effects of the light as the sun goes down, like this photo of the sun just dropping behind Paarl mountain.  Taken a moment later than the one above there is a circular glow around the setting sun that was  distinctive and I was surprised it was captured so easily by the iPhone camera.   

Sunset over Paarl rock

Sunset over Paarl rock

Watsonia, weather and a resolution

After one of the wettest winters in memory we’ve been expecting a hot, windy dry summer. So far it hasn’t materialised. There was a lot of wind before Christmas, which is typical of the Cape, but over the Christmas period itself we had perfect weather, still days with little or no wind and temperatures that didn’t rise above 32 or 33. After New Year we expect all that to change – the Christmas guests leave and the oven goes on. Typically in the second week of January the thermometer soars to 40, sometimes more in the valley below and the dogs and I gratefully retreat to my air conditioned office.

Not this year. As I write this on 6th January 2014 it is pouring with rain outside and the temperature is a cool 24 degrees. The rain is set to continue for the next few days and for once I’m actually grateful to be catching an early flight to Johannesburg on Wednesday and hoping to miss the worst of this most unseasonal summer stormy weather. I expect we’ll get the heat soon enough. My mother is staying with us and we went to Cape Town this morning to purchase some new outdoor furniture for her sunbathing – not much chance of that in the next few days so she’s off to Simonstown for a few days of less rural life.

Our fynbos runs continue to surprise me. Running down the drive late last week a flash of coral caught my eye and I stopped to admire a little group of Watsonia that is flowering on the bank. This bank along the drive really is fynbos heaven, it seems to capture water and most of the interesting things that grow elsewhere on the farm thrive here. This one looks most like Watsonia coccinea although it might easily be another of the many fynbos subspecies.

Watsonia coccinea

Watsonia coccinea

Although we’ve seen this Microdon dubius before I can’t resist posting another picture. It’s in full flower at the moment and these yellow-purple spikes are all over the farm, lighting the roads and profilic in the buchu lands.

Microdon dubius

Microdon dubius

The next couple of weeks are going to be taken over by a work project that will take most of my time and much of my energy so blogs might be in short supply. This year our Christmas/summer break was curtailed by a project in Stockholm in December and this one in Johannesburg that starts a week before I’d planned to get back to work. We are driven by the client and grateful to have them, but sometimes a holiday break would be nice!

Even a short holiday on the farm is a joy – the dogs love having us aournd, lots of friends come to stay for a night or three and we are blessed to live on this mountain.

As work takes over again the Fynbos Blog resolves to carry on in 2014, with the aim of capturing even more of the amazing diversity of flowering shrubs and bulbs that flourish on this little farm.

Christmas Fynbos

Travel at Christmas is always fraught with risk. We left for a short trip to Ireland to spend the weekend before Christmas with a very dear friend, celebrating his 50th birthday. Thereby infuriating a whole series of family members, who believed that if we were in Ireland that close to Christmas, we should see them, not friends. Sorry. We then braved a lot of stormy flooding roads and wild bouncing skies, along with a Heathrow made worse than ever by the despairing passengers whose flights were cancelled two days before Christmas. Our plane, thank goodness, slipped through the weather and flung itself southwards and even managed to land in Cape Town without crashing, unlike another flight at O R Tambo in Johannesburg which walloped its wing by crashing into a building on the ground causing a mighty row between air traffic control and the British Airways pilot. You can imagine. No-one got hurt.

We arrived home on the 24th, back to the farm, the dogs and our gorgeous friends who came for Christmas. The fabulous David in Paarl did all the catering for us, so we had a wonderful self-indulgent break. Hubert sat beside me at dinner and explained that he doesn’t really love this blog because it’s too academic for him. He’s one of the cleverest people I know, so I think that, as a friend who lives most of the year far away, he’d rather more gossip and fewer flowers. Those last two paragraphs were for you, Hubert.

Meanwhile out on the mountain the dogs and I have been running regularly and loving it. Summer runs take in lots of water breaks. You hear of big dogs dehydrating so I’m careful about that and make sure the dogs are always in sight so that I can spot if anyone gets distressed.

Seamus and Maebh enjoying the water at Fox Pan

Seamus and Maebh enjoying the water at Fox Pan on a very dry sunny windy morning

Lots of things enjoy the summer weather and the Christmas collection includes a snake nearly trodden on by Noella, who was remarkably calm about it. Also a red lipped tortoise, charming creatures and we see them quite often. This morning a scorpion ran across our path, minding his own business. I love seeing these things, but it’s another good reason to keep the dogs in sight, just in case they get too inquisitive about something nasty.

The flowers may not be profuse, but there are still plenty of things out there to interest us. Some choose to flower in the hottest driest of weather, like the helichrysum that covers the mountain.

Helichrysum

Helichrysum

There are plenty of Pelargoniums that don’t mind the heat and choose the hottest months for their flowering. I’ve taken a lesson from the mountain and planted lots more of these in the garden.

One of the many subspecies of wild Pelargonium that grows on the mountain

One of the many subspecies of wild Pelargonium that grows on the mountain

I have only seen these orange spikes in one particularly damp spot on the road that leads up to the pine forest. They are known as wild dagga and the dried leaves traditionally have been used medicinally but are not a narcotic or tobacco substitute, contrary to what some of the local residents have told me.

Wild dagga, Leonotus leonurus

Wild dagga, Leonotus leonurus

I love this Selago corymbosa which flowers only in the dry months on it’s long softly spiking stems.

Selago corymbosa

Selago corymbosa

There are 35 fynbos lobelias and they are really stunning, especially in close up. I’m going to suggest that this one is Lobelia pinifolia because many of them have hairless flowers while this one is quite clearly hairy.

Lobelia pinifolia

Lobelia pinifolia

This is known as the blue pea and is most likely Psoralea restioloides, choosing to flower late in its season near the stream that marks our boundary with the nature reserve at the top of the farm.

Psorolea restioloides, the blue pea

Psorolea restioloides, the blue pea

This, oddly, is known as the Christmasberry, although it flowers at Christmas and the spectacular red berries appear in the autumn. It is a common shrub, with a distribution along the coasts and a good way inland from Namaqualand on the West Coast of South Africa all the way to KwaZulu-Natal on the Eastern Coast. Perhaps among all those different habitats there is one in which the berries appear at Christmas.

Christmas berry, Chironia baccifera

Christmas berry, Chironia baccifera

I love these protea cones though I can’t remember which member of the protea family this shrub belongs to.

Protea cone

Protea cone

This time of year brings the most magnificent sunsets and with friends staying we often take a sunset walk with the dogs. We’ve had tremendous winds this spring and suddenly over Christmas they’ve dropped and the weather has been perfect, sunny but not too hot. The air is amazing, a light breeze, slight damp dew falling as the sun goes down. Fewer flowers perhaps but the valley below us is a theatre of glorious changing light.

The evening light in the olive groves above the house

The evening light in the olive groves above the house

Sunset on Christmas Day

Sunset on Christmas Day

Wild windy summer sunsets

I never get tired of looking at the view from the balcony and because we look west we have wonderful sunsets. Tonight’s was special by any standard. I took this photo just as the sun had gone down – no filter, just the last light of the setting sun reflected from the clouds onto the dam.

Sunset over the dam

Sunset over the dam

We had Christopher, the brother-in-law, to stay and before he left I offered to take him up the mountain and show him the flowers. All spring we’ve had a wonderful time showing our guests the wonders of the mountain fynbos flowers. That time has passed.  He loved being up on the mountain but the flowers have become sparse and less interesting to the casual visitor. A really passionate gardner might still enjoy it – for the less passionate there is merely fading and die back and the fucundity of the land has passed into dryness survival mode.

It doesn’t mean that there is nothing of interest out there, I’ve often mentioned that yellow daisy-like flowers are among the hardest to identify. This one could be the rock daisy, Heterolopis, or perhaps Leysera. If I see it again which is quite likely we’ll take a closer look.

Heterolopis or Rock Daisy?

Heterolopis or Rock Daisy?

The wind continues to blow – it has been more than a week now, which is quite unusual and not a let up in the forecast. The dogs love it particularly the wolfhounds and here is Maebh standing in the wind, allowing it to stream through her coat.

Maebh poses in the evening light, letting the wind slip through her coat

Maebh poses in the evening light, letting the wind slip through her coat

Jemima Chew on the other hand finds her solace in water and the permanent streams. She loves to wallow and lie the flow and then stands up, looking about her, thoroughly pleased with herself.

Jemima Chew - life is good

Jemima Chew – life is good

As Christopher and I chatted and walked I kept my eyes open for anything new and exciting, expectations low. And here we are, hidden beneath some fynbos scrub, this exquisite pelargonium. There are nearly 300 subspecies, 150 in the fynbos region of which only 20 or so are in the book. This one is so lovely, the colours, the delicate shape of the petals. I would be tempted to move it to the garden but my fingers are not the greenest and what if it’s the only one? I only ever transplant the very common flowers, anything that might be rare, special or precious belongs on the mountain.

A Pelargonium we have not seen before

A Pelargonium we have not seen before

Gloomy northern skies and dreams of fynbos flowers

Sitting in an office in Stockholm on a gloomy day it is hard to imagine the glories of Saturday morning’s run.  The light, the warmth, the howling wind.  Seamus and Meabh stand face on, heads up, loving the feel of the wind ruffling their coats.  As ever there is something new to see – this gorgeous Tritonia undulata which has emerged in quite a few places.  It’s very distinctive and very lovely, what a treasure to find on a Sunday morning.

Tritonia undulata

Tritonia undulata

I stopped to try and capture a good picture of it of course, and as I trotted on up the hill I reflected on how much less fit I am than I was when I started this blog.  You would think that blogging what I see when I’m out on a run would get me out running more.  But the problem is that my runs are longer – I can never resist a new flower, especially as anything that is a bulb may be gone by tomorrow, and each picture takes a few minutes as I try to find the best angle and the best light.  Sometimes, perversely, that even puts me off from going out at all because I don’t have the time I need to do a proper run and photograph the flowers as well.  It will be an ongoing dilema and really, as with so many problems in one’s life could probably be solved if I got up earlier…

One of the flowers that inspired me to start the blog has suddenly emerged.  It’s known as the comb flower, Micranthus junceus, and is one of the first that I identified because of its distinctive shape and pretty blue flowers.

Micranthus junceus, the Combflower

Micranthus junceus, the Combflower

As I do the research and leaf through the books hunting for flowers, inevitably one passes stunning flowers in the book and thinks – “never seen that one, I wonder if it grows on this mountain.”  This Roella ciliata is such a flower with its gorgeous lilac-blue and inky collar.  I spotted it out of the corner of my eye as we ran down one of the paths in the forest and felt like an excited hunter who has finally found a screcretive and exclusive quarry.

Roella ciliata

Roella ciliata

Much more common is this butterfly lily, the splendidly named Wachendorphia paniculata I posted it not long ago, but can’t resist posting this lovely example which is growing along the drive and which looked particularly fine against the sandstone wall.

Wachendorfia paniculata

Wachendorfia paniculata

Finally a couple of flowering bulbs that I haven’t identified, one blue, one yellow.   The blue one has a twisting spike out of which the flowers grow and the yellow one grows tightly out of its stalk like a delphinium.  I haven’t been able to identify them in the general fynbos books and I really need a night in with the encyclopaedia of fynbos bulbs to see if I can identify these and a couple of others that we still have not named.  Sometimes it’s just a matter of a better photograph and all is revealed.  A good project for hot summer nights when the pressure of new flowers has eased and we will start a job of identifying and cataloging what we’ve found.

Unidentified blue flowering bulb which has a distinctive twisting flowerhead

Unidentified blue flowering bulb which has a distinctive twisting flowerhead

Unidentified yellow flowering bulb that is suddenly flowering all over the farm, particularly on damp roads

Unidentified yellow flowering bulb that is suddenly flowering all over the farm, particularly on damp roads

Summer

As spring turns into summer the intense proliferation of new flowers on the mountain is dying back and I don’t really expect to see new things as frequently. So far there has been something new on each of the 50 runs that I’ve done since I started the blog. That won’t continue when the summer sun sucks every last bit of moisture out of the ground, leaving it rock hard, dry and dusty.

Summer running has quite a different feel to winter running. The wind for a start; when it’s hot and dry the famous Cape Doctor, the southeaster, howls over the mountain, shredding all but the hardiest plants in the garden. Suddenly it is clear why so many fynbos plants have tough spikey or needlelike leaves. They need them to survive the wind and the summer drought.

We did some quick runs with no photo stops last week on a route that we run quite frequently and then on Friday morning the dogs and I decided to go for a proper blogging run to the highest point of the farm where there a shady damp road that always has something interesting to look at. When it gets hot like this we seek out the few shady groves, damp areas and streams to get a break from the relentless morning sun. Maebh as she often does, posed for the camera. Perhaps not the best ever photo of her but the colour of her coat is gorgeous in the dappled light.

20131126-084429.jpg

Just a little further on, caught in a pool of sunlight, stood this amazing flower. Although I can’t find it in the books, the slightly twisted sword like leaves tell me it is a kind of Gladioli and if I have some time I’ll hunt through the Fynbos Bulb Encyclopedia to see if any of the descriptions match this. I love this photo, the flowerhead in a pool of light against the dark shadow of the trees.

20131126-084910.jpg

I’m never 100% sure that I have identified this flower correctly – there are 52 fynbos subspecies in the Metalasia family and the photos in the books are not great. I’ve published photos of them before and I couldn’t resist this one with its spectacular pink flower. I believe it’s Metalasia divergens.

20131126-085104.jpg

20131126-085113.jpg

A wet wet weekend

What better occupation on a rainy weekend than to go through all the flowers and spend some time researching those we haven’t yet identified. It’s been pouring with rain since yesterday morning, proper African rain causing floods and mayhem all over the province.  Minor mayhem here on the farm as Peter and I spent an hour trying to clear the weir, him in the river working on a valve that was stuck and me and the dogs providing moral support.  I can report that the new waterproofing that I applied to my raincoat works perfectly.  The dogs loved it, running in the rain, offering advice and admiration to Peter as dug and cleared the pipes and valves.

So it’s a good evening to catch up with some flowers that I haven’t identified or posted.

Like this Common Button Daisy or Cotula turbinata. It’s regarded as a weed in some places, but not on our mountain where it’s welcome to take all the space it needs.

Cotula turbinata

Cotula turbinata

As is this spreading Erica. I have no idea which Erica it is, it rambles along the ground and can really take over in areas it likes.

Rambling white Erica

Rambling white Erica

Close up the little white flowers with their serrated edges are amazing.

Close up of the rambling white Erica

Close up of the rambling white Ericaa

Somehow I don’t think I’ve posted this Scabious columbaria yet. They are very common all over the mountain and they make great garden flowers.

Scabious columbaria

Scabious columbaria

This Common Butterfly Lily has the rather grand Latin name of Wachendorfia paniculata. It’s quite common and pops up in all sorts of places.

Wachendorfia paniculata

Wachendorfia paniculata

I always find blue flowers particularly attractive. So I was delighted to see these bright Purple Powerpuffs or Pseudoselago serrata close to the river.

Pseudoselago serrata

Pseudoselago serrata

I’m not sure I’ve correctly identified this. I think it is a Relhania as the leaves generally fit the description but this is not the subspecies that is photographed in my book.

Relhania

Relhania

This lovely blue flower is only about 10mm in size and it is another common, delicate flower found all over the farm. It is Lobelia pubescens.

Lobelia pubescens

Lobelia pubescens

I posted this shrub in the last blog, promising to identify it in the next one. It is Passerina corymbosa. It grows on disturbed ground, such as roadsides right acoss the Western and Eastern Cape. A little scruffy in appearance, and with flowers that can be either red or white. They are exquisite when photographed in close up.

Passerina corymbosa

Passerina corymbosa

This is a Roepera though I’m not quite sure which one as it most resembles Roepera flexuosa which is costal. Either its lost, or its a subspecies not included in my books. No doubt about the species though, the curled back yellow petals with red-brown splashes at the base and the oval leaves are all quite distinctive.

Roepera subspecies uncertain

Roepera subspecies uncertain

These lovely little flowering bulbs are called Ornithogalum dubium and they have suddenly emerged on the road that leads to the waterfall. It’s particularly satisfying when we find new colonies of lovely flowers in areas where we have cleared alien vegetation, as is the case here.

Ornithogalum dubium

Ornithogalum dubiumm

This however  I can’t identify – it is tiny fragile and shortliived.

image

This is another flower I can’t identify, though I’m pretty sure it’s a Selago of which there are over 100 subspecies and they do grow at the top of stems covered in spiky leaves, sometimes with very pretty flowers, as here.

Selago?

Selago?

Finally I’ve posted this a couple of times, unidentified. But now I suspect it is Aspalathus cephalotes, or possibly Aspalathus nigra. More likely the former as we see them in pink as well as blue.

Aspalanthes cephalotes

Aspalanthes cephalotes

« Older Entries Recent Entries »