Tag Archives: wildflower blog

The Morning Run

The unseasonal weather continued all last week with pours of rain thundering down for much of it.  Yesterday morning it was dry at last and we woke up early to go running.  At this time of year we are normally sweltering in the heat so it was a joy to be splashing through puddles and smelling the sweet damp morning air.  I was working in Johannesburg for much of the week, missing the rain, but also the dogs and the run, so they were full of joy as we bounded along.  Yes, I did say bounded.  Fewer flowers mean fewer photos so I’ve been running a bit harder and slowly getting fitter.  

I count my blessing every day that we spend on this farm.  We’ve been a bit slow about transforming the garden and today the fabulous Henk Scholz came to give us some advice.  He is incredible, one starts with an idea of course and he’s very kind so he takes it on board, but then comes up with his own idea that is so audacious and splendid it’s completely irresistible.  Peter then came up with a couple of stunning ideas which, if he really is prepared to do the work, will transform the place and make it even more beautiful.  I described the farm to someone the other day as the most beautiful farm in the Cape, which was stupid because there are many amazing farms here.  Ours is unusual and unexpected which gives it a special beauty.

Henk admired elements of the vegetable garden, principally the fact that I’ve managed to get anything to grow at all.  I may love plants and gardens but whatever shade my fingers are, it’s definitely not green.  He gently explained that the reason my plants are not fruiting is because they are completely smothered by weeds.  Oh I can make all the excuses I want, the rain, the fact that I fertilised everything before the rain, which of course the weeds love even more than the plants.  The time, or rather the lack of it that dominates my life.  In the end, after he left, with the earth still soft and yielding after all the rain I dug and weeded for hours and have cleared all those pesky monsters away.  Maebh loves it when I garden, she sniffs around and tries to help, then lies down and observes all the work with great interest.  Finally she curls up in the cool shadow of an orange tree and happily falls asleep. 

Back to the run.  As we bounded up the mountain I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw this Protea repens.  What?  Now?  It’s far too early!  And indeed the season doesn’t really start until March.  This one clearly decided to get ahead.  It has just opened, perhaps the season starts much earlier than I’d realised and this is the first.  

An early flowering Protea repens

An early flowering Protea repens

One of the joys of the mountain is the magnificent Salvia africana-caerulea.  It flowers prolifically for eight months of the year and particularly seems to thrive at this time of year.  

Salvia africana-caerulea

Salvia africana-caerulea

Another flower that is glorious at this time of the year is this stunning Erica.  I’m pretty sure it’s Erica abietina, simply called Red heath which flowers all year round but seems to relish the dry most of all.  The coral flowers are stunning along the drive and although the strong midday sun was almost too much for this photo I couldn’t resist the way it reflects the flight and glows from within.

Erica abietina

Erica abietina

Despite the cooler weather Seamus still took a dip and a drink in Fox Pan as we climbed higher up the mountain.  Then, graciously deigning to wait for me, he stood and admired the view with the water cascading off his flanks and shining in the morning light.

Seamus after his dip admiring the view

Seamus after his dip admiring the view

I rushed to identify the last blog’s flowering bulb as Watsonia, possibly because it gave me a great title.  But I was a bit bothered by that and not entirely convinced.  The flowering season is wrong, and although that sometimes happens you have to be certain.  So back to the books I went and in fact it is Tritoniopsis, most likely triticea, although burchellii is almost identical and grows in the same places.  The brown leaves, which you can see in this photo, are distinctive and make me confident of this identification.

Tritoniopsis tritecea

Tritoniopsis tritecea

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

Fire on the Mountain

In South Africa people rise early, so a call at 7 am is not necessarily worrying. Peters kids get up early to avoid the Johannesburg traffic and often call at that time for a chat. Anything earlier than that signals trouble, so when the phone started forth with ‘Gangnam Style’ (yes, that really is my ringtone) at 6.15 on Saturday morning I jumped out of bed to get it, knowing the news wasnt going to be good.

It was our neighbour and she was clearly concerned. A fire on the mountain, right by their house. We leaped into action – Peter quickly got dressed while I equally quickly manned the phone and made him a coffee to take with him. He’d call the local fire marshal, get down there, assess the situation, and they’d decide how much support was needed to get this under control quickly.

We have terrible fires here on the mountains, last year one burned all the way from Franschhoek to the N1, which must be over 20 kilometres. They go far further than that when they are out of control and the wind is high. But we’ve had a very wet winter and the past few days have brought the first southeaster of the season, a howling wind that comes with the dry spring weather and frays all our nerves.

We predicted this fire a few days ago. Another neighbour was burning in his lands and he didn’t seem to have taken care to put out the smoldering embers. “There’s going to be a fire” said Peter on Wednesday evening as we drove down the mountain on our way to dinner. Sure enough….

This was not a particularly dangerous fire. Frightening when it’s close to your house, but with the ground and the undergrowth still cold and wet, it was never going to be the frightening inferno we’d see later in the season. By mid-morning it was under control. Still, a good warning and we are very diligent about clearing potential fuel and firebreaks on the farm. In the season, January and February, we are on high alert. 

Fire on a neighbours farm just below us.

Fire on a neighbours farm just below us.


Today was altogether calmer. I went for an early run with the dogs and then we had some friends who came to lunch and were very keen to see the flowers. As ever plenty of new sightings emerged. Rather frustratingly I am writing this on a plane (London this time) and have left my books behind. So here are some pictures of new flowers, taken in case they are no longer flowering when I get back and I will do the research when I get home in a few days time and repost with some names.
 

This beautiful flowering bulb is all over the farm.  It must be common but I cannot find it in the books.

Blue flowering bulb

Blue flowering bulb

This kind of flower emerges in summer.  Lots of fynbos have these short spikey stems covered in leaves and a single flower on the tip.  We’ll see lots more and identify as many as we can.

Pink flowering shrub

Pink flowering shrub

Polygala is identified by the fluffy bits on the flowers and this creeping plants is everywhere at the moment.

Polygala

Polygala

Maebh resting under the shade of a protea tree

Maebh resting under the shade of a protea tree

I’ve never seen a wild Aloe on the moutain before and this is growing in the area along the river where we’ve cleared huge amounts of alien vegation.

Aloe on the moutain

Aloe on the moutain

Another of these flowers on the end of a prickley spike.  Quite distinctive so I have hopes of identifying it.

Blue unidentified flower

Blue unidentified flower

This stunning Protea bud is almost architectural.

Protea flower in Bud

Protea flower in Bud

Tiny yellow stars appear everywhere.

Tiny yellow flowers

Tiny yellow flowers

These clusters are also found in several different areas.  I had to use myself as a shadow to capture them in the bright sunlight.

Clusters of yellow and white flowers

Clusters of yellow and white flowers


			
		

Springtime – Pelargoniums, Proteas and Polygalas

Last week was a bad week for running with the dogs.  I’d hurt my leg and I had to go to Johannesburg on business and then when finally I was motivated to get out there, it rained.  But on Friday evening friends came to do a “flower safari” and it is always wonderful to see the mountain through their eyes – the wild beauty of it and the spectacular blooming of the fynbos all the more marvellous.

Sunday morning came with glorious sunshine, the dogs’ tails were wagging in anticipation and there were no excuses or reasons to avoid an hour of excercise interspersed with photography.  The morning light as the sun slants over the mountain lends itself beautifully to photos, so we were up at a reasonable hour and the four of us panted up the hill.

I probably repeat this too often, but although this is the 42nd blog this year, I have seen something completely new every single time I’ve been up the mountain and I know I’ve missed flowers as well.  Shrubs tend to bloom for a while, but flowering bulbs sometimes have only a brief moment of glory and the saddest thing is to come back from a trip, head up the moutain and see the withered shape of some lovely thing that we shan’t see again until 2014.

Yesterday we saw old friends and some completely new flowers.  The first to greet us was this coral-pink protea.  The buds have been there for ages and the anticipation was worth the wait when it finally bloomed. It could be Protea eximia, the large leaves with a distinctive border and the black tips of the outer petals seem indicative.

Protea eximia

Protea eximia

There are quite a few of these gorgeous fluffy white flowers just below the area we call the lookout and I think it might be Stilbe vestita.

Stilbe vestita

Stilbe vestita

Some flowers really create the feel of the mountain as there are prolific flowering shrubs all over the place.  I should do a blog dedicated to them.  I caught a lovely image of one, Oftia africana, on Sunday.

Oftia africana

Oftia africana

This pretty blue flowering bulb has been present in the same part of the farm as the Stilbe vestita and I’m also not sure what it is.  Further research will probably find it though, as I have lots of books on bulbs, but not always the time to read them before I post the blog.

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This white erica is really amazing – in one small part of the farm it has taken over and at this time of year there is a carpet of tiny white blooms – spectacular.  It’s a flat Erica that grows close to the ground.

Spreading white erica

Spreading white erica

The white Erica in close up

The white Erica in close up

Another Erica we love to see is this one.  It resembles several in the books, most closely abietina which one of my books says grows only on Table Mountain.  A close relation perhaps?  In any case it seems to flower for most of the year, with a brief break only over the worst of the winter months.

An Erica related to abietina?

An Erica related to abietina?

From time to time I post a photograph of the many Pelargoniums on our slopes, they are prolific, there is a variety of subspecies but not that I can identify for certain.

Pelargonium

Pelargonium

Strangely the same is true for this gladioli.  You really would think that something so very common and prolific would be easy to identify.  I often struggle with gladioli and for this one I have been through the Encyclopedia of Cape Bulbs several times.  The flowers are pink when in bud and turn pure white as they flower.  On the bottom petals there is a hint of yellow.  They are prolific and flower everywhere the slopes are damp.

Gladiolus - strangely unidentified

Gladiolus – strangely unidentified

A while ago I posted a blog entitled The Red Protea, fascinated by these red “flowers” that were growing on a protea bush.  It turns out that it’s the new growth of the lovely Protea nitida (see the Protea page for a picture of the lovely Protea nitida in full bloom).  Here is the very beginning of that new growth – it does indeed look like a flower in bud.

The new growth of Protea nitida

The new growth of Protea nitida

This flower, growing on a damp road right at the very top of the farm is clearly a member of the pea family, though unidentified at present.

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Another member of the pea family is Polygala.  There are quite a few of these and I’m not sure which one we have here but they are prolific in quite a few areas of the farm during the spring months.  The little white fringe confirms the identification as Polygala.

Polygala

Polygala

Finally, also at the top of the farm, we saw the first flower of Scabiosa columbaria.  Part of the charm of this flower is that it can survive the hot weather and will continue to flower all the way through the summer months when not much else is happening.

Scabiosa columbaria

Scabiosa columbaria

The Red Protea

While the blog and the running help to motivate one another, the profusion of flowers has taken over and I’ve been spending too much time taking photos of flowers and not nearly enough doing the actual running. So this week I’ve been determined to run harder and hoping to get out at another time of day for the flowers.

Next week I’ll focus more on the blog. In the meantime I did stop to capture this unusual flower, which has come out near the waterful. I’m not quite sure what it is – Protea? Leucadendron? I can’t find it in the book.

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The weather is vastly improved and spring has definitely arrived. The proof? The farm echoes with the call of the red chested cuckoo – known as the Piet-my-vrou, in reference to its distinctive call.  It’s a migratory bird and arrives with the heat in springtime.

I also couldn’t resist stopping on the drive to capture the Leucospermum linaere who’s graceful fronds have grown down the slope to eye-level. This plant has obviously enjoyed the quantities of rain – I’ve never seen so many flowers on it.

Leucospermum linaere or The Vulnerable

Leucospermum linaere or The Vulnerable

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