Southern Advent Wreath

When I grew up in South Africa, Advent Wreaths, and hanging a Christmas Wreath on the door were not done. It was a foreign, Northern custom that we saw in magazines or films. Then I met the Ungardener and went North, to Switzerland. And lived that Northern custom.

When Christmas is in summer, evergreen would have to be plastic. Bits of conifer in a wreath, outside on the door, might stay green for days. If you are lucky. I did try. But redoing a wreath every few days is really no fun. And plastic is just not me.

We went with our Swiss friends to the Hergiswil Glasi (in German, but it has pictures). Glasi being Swiss German for glassworks. And I was enchanted by this glass Advent wreath. So my friend bought it for me – and I think of Andrea each time I use it. To absent friends!

I love glass, from Lalique, which I could only dream of. To Murano, which I visited after university, decades ago. I still have a plain white glass necklace, like twists of barley sugar. And a smoky glass cat, from the Ungardener’s tour guide days. I remember a delightful visit to the newly opened glass gallery at the V & A in London. Dartington glass salt shakers, bought in Aarau in Switzerland, for our first home together.

Then Hergiswil. Bought some lovely chunky wineglasses, which sit so comfortably in the hand. This factory is on the shores of the Vierwaldstaettersee, with a mountain backdrop. (Travel by boat or train from Luzern.) There is a gallery/museum there too. With a water and glass organ. A functional music instrument, played on special occasions. Think of the quality of sound, when you have a few glasses with varying amounts of water in them, and you tap gently with your fork. Now imagine a professional musician playing a glass organ ...

For a southern summer advent – this is an answer to prayer. There is a nice deep bowl, which holds lots of water. A heavy glass insert with eight holes, for candles. Or it is wonderful for year round flower arranging, like Julie’s flower bricks, or an earlier generation’s rose bowl. (It is all standing on a bubbled glass charger, bought here, to stop the balls running away!)

Each year I use something different, choosing from what we have in the garden. Plectranthus madagascarensis will hold its green and white leaves thru Advent, and make roots, so after Christmas I have a bunch of rooted cuttings. Since there is water, I could even use the traditional bits of conifer. But I hate conifers, so we have none. Sadly even our Cedarberg cedar has died. Too hot here, compared to up in the mountains?

Last year the Ungardener was missing snow. So. I used the silver gray Prince of Wales feathers from Dusty Miller. Got armloads of that. And white silk Christmas balls. Voila! I am dreaming of a white Christmas.

And so I wish you a blessed Advent, with more music, and less shop till you drop, less irits as niece Alice says!

Fire flowers

On our burnt mountain (did you miss the beginning of this story? Follow the 2 links) we saw swathes of colour. Getting closer, two plants dominated.

Wachendorfia paniculata, again the Haemodoraceae (bloodwort) family. Golden yellow in groups of every random number. Some isolated in stately splendour, but most are party animals.

 From www.plantzafrica.com  - The rootstock is a branched, fleshy rhizome The pollinator is unknown and its pollination biology is a bit of an evolutionary puzzle. The flowers produce a generous amount of nectar that is easily stolen, with the thief not having to get anywhere near the pollen or stigmas in order to get at the nectar, so there is no apparent benefit to the plant. Furthermore, the stigma and anthers are too far apart for most insects, including the honey bee, to touch when visiting for nectar, and this rules them out as pollinators. The carpenter bee is a possible pollinator as it is large enough, or tabanid flies whose wings do touch the anthers, or any number of beetles that feed on the pollen, clambering over the flowers to get at the pollen and touching the stigmas in the process.

To add to the puzzle, Wachendorfia has a peculiar form of floral enantiomorphy i.e. they have left- and right-handed flowers that are mirror images of each other. Within a population there are flowerheads with flowers whose stigmas are bent sharply to the left and another has them bent to the right. Also, one of the stamens is bent in the direction opposite to the stigma. Enantiomorphy was thought to promote outcrossing but in Dilatris, also a southern African member of Haemodoraceae, there are left- and right-handed flowers on one flowerhead, and the function of this is not understood. In any event, someone or something does effect pollination and the resultant fruit is a 3-locular capsule containing three 5 x 3 x 1 mm semi-circular black seeds. They are hard but light in weight and are densely covered in short coarse hairs which give the seeds a fuzzy outline. They also float on water, and given the riverine habitat of the plant, this is probably an adaptation for water dispersal.

The Haemodoraceae, or bloodwort family, gets its rather alarming name from the red cell-sap found in the roots which colours the rootstock red (haima is Greek for blood and dôran means gift; wort is old English for a plant; Haemodorum is the Australian genus on which this family is based). It consists of 13 genera found in Australia, southern Africa and tropical America, the Australian representative most familiar to gardeners being Anigozanthos, the kangaroo's paw. The genus is named in commemoration of E.J. von Wachendorff, the 18th century professor of botany and chemistry at Utrecht. I prefer a more romantic classical derivation from the Latin thyrsus from the Greek thursos which is a rod or wand tipped with a pine cone, symbolic of Bacchus/Dionysus, which, gods of wine aside, is perfectly descriptive of the overall appearance of the inflorescence. Wachendorfia thyrsiflora is an easy plant to grow and is ideally suited to marshy or swampy conditions in full sun or semi-shade.

Not quite so dominant, were clusters of apricot Geissorhiza, from the Iris family.

As you can see, on the patches which are still exposed from the fire, the ‘soil’ is gritty blinding white quartz gravel. From the Table Mountain Sandstone. This is not fertile and the sundews supplement their meagre diet with insects.

Ants are very important to the survival of the fynbos. They collect seeds and take them home, underground, for dinner. But after a fire, there is truly a bank of seeds available. And they germinate with delighted exuberance, as you see.

This ant is on a Moraea neglecta flower.


PS Our reserve is currently - closed till end of March 2011 - while the roads are repaired after fire and flood damage. We wait impatiently until we can walk there again!

After our mountain fire, we give thanks

This Saturday, 21st November, we walked on our burnt mountain again. Since March we have had winter rain, and we can see that the mountain slopes are green, green, green again. We can also see unbroken drifts of colour, where one plant, scarlet Watsonia, has taken over. The shrub and bush cover is gone, so annuals and bulbs celebrate their field day. Gradually the perennials, and trees in the kloofs will grow back and smother the small fry, until the next fire. And the wheel will turn again.

The restios and grasses look so inviting for the buck which would have been driven to the edge of the fire. And have struggled to find shelter and food ever since. Ficinia radiata, a sedge, looks as if the whole reserve has been scattered with gold stars for Christmas.

From plantZafrica  - In the genus Ficinia almost all of the ± 60 species are endemic to the Cape Floristic Region. The genus was  named in honour of D.H. Ficini who was the author of a Flora of Dresden. However, as far as can be ascertained, he had no connection with the Cape flora or with the Cyperaceae. When climate change is taken into account, one recognizes that many species of Ficinia may become threatened in future. These threats are severe since the genus consists of a majority of species endemic to the Western Cape. Ficinia is a characteristic genus of the Cape Flora i.e. fynbos, and is the largest genus of Cyperaceae/sedges that can be found outside tropical South Africa. There are at least thirty-three species in the Cape Peninsula alone. Many grow in fynbos on nutrient-poor sandstone soils.

An elaiosome (the appendage on the seed that is rich in oil) attracts ants, that then drag the seed into their nests underground. The ants eat off the elaiosome and leave the seed in the nest, where it can then germinate safely without being eaten by predators. In the fire-dependant Cape flora this is important as the seed is also protected from the heat of the burn. Sedges form an important component of wetlands, where they act as water purifying and erosion control agents. It is the rhizome or stolon that aids this function. The species grows in the southwestern region of the Cape Province where it is distributed from the Ceres Mountains southwards to Cape Town and the Western Cape. It grows on sandy lowlands and lower mountain slopes at altitudes between 200 and 2,500 m. Flowering time is from September to December.

Dilatris pillansii, in the Haemodoraceae (bloodroot) family, was new to me. Misty mauve flowers floating about half a metre above the ground. But many flowering plants are only seen, in profusion, or at all, with the first rain after a fire.

And finally a last lingering gaze at the Groot and Klein Winterhoek. Last seen capped with snow!

Since it is Thanksgiving today, we give thanks for

Seed and grass and flowers and bugs,

after our mountain fire,

by God’s grace,

with Mother Nature.

(There are more Fire flowers here)

Fire on our mountain

If you live, as we do, and did in Camps Bay where mountain/wild/forest fires are a part of life. Then you will recognise that rising sense of unease. I can smell smoke – not a farmer burning the stubble (sadly they still do, despite global warming), nor an insane neighbour burning autumn leaves/garden waste/bit of garbage. The light is strange, hazy to the sun, because there is so much smoke in the air. Where is the fire? People share what they know, from the farmer up on the mountain, nature conservation officials, TV and newspapers if it is ‘newsworthy’ enough.

From New Scientist - Wildfires will change the way we live

Then it gets closer. You can see the walls of flame. Sheets of flame. Leaping down the mountain in wanton abandon, as you watch, in helpless horror. Our whole elephant was on fire, not just the head which we see, but also his whole hidden body. That was the 9th and 10th of March this year. Came to the far edge of the fields, which separate us from the mountain. But no homes were damaged, no people hurt.

We had 42mm of rain over the next two months. And so we went to walk on our mountain. To see the devastation. And because of the rain, to see the flowers which come thru after the fire has cleared the bushes and shrubs. Our fynbos is adapted to fire. Some seeds are so firmly adapted to fire, that the seed will only germinate when rain has washed the smoke down thru the soil. (This is why Kirstenbosch sells smoke primer with our indigenous/native South African fynbos seeds)

Yes we saw devastation on the 9th of May. Scorched earth. The burnt remains of a tortoise shell. Sooty skeletons of once were proteas. But we also saw nature’s forgiveness of flowers. Proud Nerine and prostrate Oxalis. Both dressed in the same exuberant shimmering party-dress pink!  

PS The story continues ...  Give Thanks and  Fire flowers

Mediterranean Sun Circle

The Ungardener likes the African sun. Despite warnings from the dermatologist. So he wants somewhere to sit and lie in the sun. This bit of garden still needed developing. The wall faces North which makes it a sun trap. From there you look onto the Karoo Koppie with our succulents. And across to Ungardening Pond. A wide view across the full length and width of the garden, but without the mountain view. Started in September, while the garden was still green.

Thru October, he and Carlo laid out the last of the paths, with their brick edging, while the clay soil was still moist enough to dig! Then covered the path with a deep layer of crunchy gravel.

On the right you will see an elderly apple tree. Chopped down and dug out. Then replaced with a lemon tree. We also planted two orange trees on the left. A Mediterranean atmosphere needs citrus trees. And the orange blossom smelt delectable. We now have TINY oranges.

In November we bought a ‘York stone’ circle, made of concrete, but with a satisfyingly textured surface.

Finally planted with exotic (non South African) volunteers from the rest of the garden. Dusty Millers that were smothering the transplanted roses, and taking over the raised planters in the shade of the ash trees. A few lavenders, that had been scattered around. Some rooted cuttings of a salvia with raspberry red flowers, for some colour. And oreganum that had come up between the brick paving at the washing line.

We’ll see at the end of the summer if anything, except the three citrus trees, survives. And next March, April, May, with the winter rain, we will fill in the gaps with fragrant Mediterranean herbs.

PS Anyone else struggling to post a comment here? I can't! Please leave a message at Blotanical. Thank you

South African Holiday

Nige wrote africanaflorafaunaviticetaecianism 

  

And a guest post from the Ungardener, which was written in reply to the Socks. Who didn't come! Read the pictures and skip the words. This is going to be revised one day ...

Postberg peninsula in August 2007 with the sea in the distance

First of all: Visiting South Africa in August/September means you are visiting in the middle of Winter, and the two provinces Western Cape and Eastern Cape are in the Winter rainfall region. You will have to be prepared for possibly cold and wet weather with snow in the mountains, but you will almost certainly also enjoy some balmy and sunny days. Having said that, you will be rewarded with some spectacular wild flower displays, IF there was enough rainfall during the preceding few weeks prior to your visit. Since this is not the case every year you will be better off not to make plans to go as far north as Namaqualand, but to stick to areas closer to Cape Town like West Coast National Park, which opens it’s Postberg Nature Reserve during the flower season and the Clanwilliam Wild Flower Show with it’s spectacular Ramskop Reserve, which in 2010 will take place 28 August – 02 September. Keep in mind that accommodation in these parts is scarce during the flower season, so booking well in advance is advisable. Consider Bushmans Kloof near Clanwilliam, a wilderness experience.

Another advantage to visiting this region during winter is that the Southern Right Whales can only be seen between June and December during their mating and calving season. You do not necessarily have to go to Hermanus to see them, even in Cape Town along the False Bay Coast on your way to or from the Cape of Good Hope one can quite often see them, from Muizenberg (Booyes Drive) all the way down to Cape Point.

Ramskop wild flower reserve in Clanwilliam. August 2007

So, all the above are the advantages of visiting in winter, for the following you would be better off to visit during the warm summer months (November – April).

Your planned route Cape Town – Port Elizabeth is a good choice to see South Africa. A must in Cape Town is of course the Cape Peninsula with the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Point, visiting the fishing harbour of Hout Bay with a boat trip to Duiker Island to see the seals. The penguins at Boulder’s Beach are not to be missed either.

In Cape Town itself a cable car ride up Table Mountain is unforgettable on a clear day. Only attempt to walk up or down the mountain if you are properly equipped with weather gear, good shoes, water and a good map. Too many people have to be rescued on an almost daily basis because they got lost. Should the “Cape Doctor” (south east wind) prevent you from going up Table Mountain, a trip up Signal Hill will give you a wonderful view as well. A trip to Robben Island (former prison) is of value if you are historically interested.

Diana at Ramskop September 2008

And then there is of course Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden. Not to be missed! At Kirstenbosch you will find on 528 hectares about a quarter of South Africa’s indigenous plant species.

There are various routes to get from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth. As a Blotanist you would probably enjoy the trip via Worcester where you should visit the Karoo Desert Botanical Garden. From Montagu I would recommend the R62 to Outdshoorn with an optional visit to the Cango Caves and an Ostrich Farm, then across Outeniqua pass to George, where you will join the Garden Route. In Knysna a boat trip to Featherbed Nature Reserve is very worthwhile and in Plettenberg Bay an overnight stay at the unique Beacon Island Hotel Southern Sun Hotels is to be recommended. At the crossing from the Western Cape into the Eastern Cape you have the opportunity to do the highest bungee jump in the world from the Bloukrans Bridge.

Karoo Botanical Garden at Worcester. July 2008. Snow on the mountain, but we had lunch outside in the sun!

Near Port Elizabeth you will come to the end of your journey with a visit to Addo Elephant National Park Sanparks. A park originally established to preserve the last few remaining elephants of the region, it has recently been enlarged considerably. Now it not only contains the Big 5 (Elephant, Rhino, Buffalo, Lion, and Leopard) but even the Big 7 (Shark and Whale)! Allow yourself at least three days to explore the park and try to get accommodation at the main camp. Especially the rondavels with a view of the waterhole are in great demand, so book as far ahead as possible (4 – 6 months or more!).

Finally, before flying out of Port Elizabeth, enjoy the view from the lighthouse at Donkin reserve just above the centre of P.E.

Kruger Park: Yes, definitely the best park in South Africa and worth a visit. However, it is a long way from your planned route and whereas the Western and the Eastern Cape are free of malaria, it would be advisable to do some sort of malaria prophylaxis to visit Kruger. Also, since Addo has been enlarged you are not going to miss much of what you would have seen at Kruger, just give yourself enough time in the park.

You should be able to do this tour within about 3 weeks, depending on the length of stay at each place. Enjoy!!!

PS You can also click on my tags South-Africa or Porterville for our journeys in our own country. And watch this space, in March we will be going to Addo. I invite other South African Blotanists to make their suggestions. Would you like to share your South African holiday with us? Please comment and leave a link.

 

     

We'll struggle to survive climate change

Ray Mears: We'll struggle to survive climate change - opinion - 14 November 2009 - New Scientist

'Ray Mears has inspired millions around the world with his television programmes about bushcraft. The self-taught, self-deprecating Mears is an optimist who would like people to feel confident that they could survive in the wild. Even so, he doesn't think most people would make it through a global climate crisis'

Rest and Be Thankful 2

We had rain for 7 days. A whole week. Seven days in a row. 103 mm! Like England or Ireland. And we are going into summer. Winter is our rainy season. And even then, if it rains for a few days. Then the sky clears. And we wander round in shorts and T shirt in the garden again.

The Ungardener sees the big picture. The long term. After a week, the sun broke thru again. I raised my eyes from this laptop, and saw thru the window, wonderful clouds. Followed my eyes to gaze on our mountain. And reflection, now we have cleared the pond of invasive Kariba weed. That is the royal we, the Ungardener got his feet wet. It is his pond.

I see the details. The flowers. This combination of blue, reddish and yellow. The three primary colours, which clash when combined in manmade tones. But I love this lively combination. The blue is Plectranthus neochilus (= muishondblaar). The Ungardener is determined to call it lavender. From a distance? But up close it smells ferociously herbal. It is supposed to deter flies if you bang a stalk on the windowsills. 

The reddish is a deep orange Gazania. Chosen because I love its flamboyant flowers. And in our last garden, every time I planted it. It died.

And the yellow is a gift from nature. A basal rosette of leaves. And generous heads of sunny yellow flowers. A weed, in other words. One of the Ungardener’s free spirited plants. All welcome here. Except Paterson's Curse Pretty flower?

Chocolat turning his back on Paradise (our rose garden). He is In a Persian garden . Beyond the wall, our neighbour’s trees. Borrowed scenery. And she has catnip. Chocolat has been seen diving over the wall. And she has seen him. Gathering up fistfuls of catnip. And devouring it. Then staggering home, to scale the wall. Red Bull gives you wings. No doping tests in the cat world.

PS Why Rest and be thankful ?

My Blue story

My sister loves blue flowers. I found myself thinking about – blue flowers, and purple flowers. So we have a blue/purple bed in the making. I cannot yet show you what I dream of, but here is a collage of those that do bloom in this garden.

Drifts of bluebells in an English woodland. A blue Himalayan poppy in the garden of a Swiss cousin, high up in Lauterbrunnen. Just one flower, but I can still see its glow. Gentians in the Alpine garden at Alpengarten Schynige Platte.

And then just to confuse everybody, there are wild violets in Switzerland. Perfectly formed little flowers. But sunshine yellow. Those I remember from a woodland walk, more than thirty years ago. The axis of the gardener’s world tilts. Yellow violets?? Unless you are Swiss, then they are simply a delightful wild flower.

Top - Geranium incanum, exotic lavender, South African Plectranthus neochilus, Osteospermum

Below - Cape forget-me-not, Streptocarpus, Scabiosa, Felicia

Then I got to thinking many easy to grow South African plants are spectacularly blue. The blue African lily Agapanthus (= for love of a flower). The only blue daisies (yes asters are purple, and so are our Osteospermums) but a glorious, luminous, freshly washed after autumn rain, blue sky? That is Felicia (= happiness), the kingfisher daisy. And the very gentle, just blue, of a hazy sky overhead on a high summer day – Plumbago! Royal Cape is a new variety with deeper blue flowers.

Slide over to purple. Osteospermum is a purple so deep, it is almost black and adds drama. Plectranthus come in every mauve and/or purple you can think of, high shrubs or low groundcovers. Scabiosa gives a haze of mauve to float above the groundcovers. And the shrub Clerodendrum ugandense with its Oxford and Cambridge style two tones of blue.

Top - Septemberbossie, Royal Cape Plumbago, Clerodendrum

Left - Plectranthus shrubs, Right - wild blue sage

SA has a huge variety of bulbs. Natal squill, now called Merwillea, which has leaves, but hasn’t flowered for me yet. And frutang, a Romulea species, with very gentle almost blue flowers, in sympathy with Plumbago. Tulbaghia, wild garlic, which is more mauve.

Top - Lachenalia, Agapanthus

Below - Gladiolus, Babiana

This bed arches around outside our bedroom window. I wish for a cool view on a hot day. So I have added lots of grey foliage. Two waves of Dusty Miller, to define the bed and hold its colour theme together. And lots of Lamb’s Ears as a border, currently looking lusciously Irish after a solid week of rain.

Finally, because I was afraid too much blue (ha, I should be so lucky! One day maybe?) and grey, would strike a chill in the heart. I put a happy yellow Euryops in the centre. Nearby a huge white marguerite daisy covered in flowers, does wobble the colour scheme a bit.

There is also an annual Felicia, more beautiful because it has a deep blue centre, to match its deeper blue flowers. I just find annuals and seeds too much work. My gardening style tends towards shrubs, trees, groundcovers – followed by benign neglect. Which doesn’t include nurturing annuals. We just admire the spring display in Namaqualand!

Postberg in August 2007. Blue flax

Finally blue foliage – especially blue grass Festuca glauca.

Twinkling in our garden is a tiny little violet blue flower with a red eye. Delicately trailing gift of nature. Oh! Just looked it up, Blue Pimpernel, introduced from Europe. We don’t have the Scarlet Pimpernel, just a blue one.

(South African species are written in blue today. As ever more info on most SAn species at plantZafrica )

Kiki wrote about blue and has inspired us to follow in her blue footsteps Color essence of blues  and  Blue essence invitation    

Honest scrap. Take that! And that!! And that!!!

Thank you! I have been honoured by Jean, our Blotanical sociologist Double whammy

and Kathy, my “guardian” angel in Colorado Honest scrap award

and Drew, professor of ecology Award

I did only start blogging in June. If you want to know more about me, click on my tag our-story or here, where I was memed before Meme award

How I blog

1. OK first be honest. On my sidebar u c – all words and photos are MINE. If not, I will acknowledge the source, and link if online. Anything else, is plain and simple THEFT!!! The Ungardener would prefer a header without the telephone lines, like this, but what you see, is what we see, our view.

I lift my eyes to the quiet hills Psalm 121

2. They say – write a good post. With a picture. I want to make it worth finding my post. Give you something to read that was worth the effort and the waiting (for music, waiting for ads, still waiting to load special effects … NOT)

To enjoy - Bean sprouts Paper dolls 

Or that stays in my mind - Blue gate gardens Trolls and cruelest mother ever

3. They say, post regularly. Every day is a burden, to me and you. Just the 1,726+ at Blotanical is overwhelming. I am aiming at 4 a week. (If you are taking a break, drop off a quick note, to let your readers know. Netiquette) Toronto Gardens is aiming at a post a day, just for November From memory

4. I HATE to read pale letters on a dark background. Skim thru Blotanical’s thumbnails, and see how this trend has taken off. You are reading slate grey letters on a sky-blue-green background (Ha, if Blogger cooperates!). No black and white glare, and our pictures still sing out.

5. Our  photos. I prefer them to load quickly, so I aim around 300 KB. Trim off excess. Squash. CopyWRITE my blog name on them. Give each picture a meaningful name – not November 2009 IMG 673. They should be clear enough, unless it captures something exceptional, like this juvenile kingfisher, learning to fish! I am not competing against Wiseacre’s portrait of the snake reflected  Pond portraits

6. After all that work, ping your posts. Otherwise it disappears, bobs up in the list belated = missed by readers. I always feel as if I am throwing a message in a bottle into the ocean.

7.  Tags. If I search for a keyword – I don’t want a quick mention, or even a whole sentence. Wow! I expect a paragraph, better yet a dedicated post. 3 lines and 10 tags is rubbish. And having 50 tags each with one post is also futile. You, and I, can search for that one easily. Use your tags to paint a meaningful picture of your blog focus.

8. When new, Autumnbelle and I both hit Most Visited. This is BECAUSE we were new. Make the most of it. You never get a second chance to make a first impression. Being most visited, when no longer new is a true achievement by Autumnbelle Birthday

9. To earn points at Blotanical send messages, and pick posts. Easiest message to write is “Tx for picking …” Keep thanking until you have earned some points, some faves.  I will stop thanking, when I hit Guru Status at 10,000 points.

10. Be proactive – if my follower, faver, picker is known to me. I follow their blog? Comment, send a message or an email. Say tx. If I don’t recognise the name, follow it up. At best I will find a blogger who thinks like me, well they chose my blog! At worst I can block the unwanted! Tx Carolyn Daily roses  for teaching me to link gracefully like a lady, instead of clumping along in my garden boots 

And last - new blogs – make a point of seeking them out as they come onto Blotanical’s list. Remember. You were new once too!

Sociable weavers

Last June (our winter) we headed about a thousand kilometres north to the Kgalagadi. When I grew up, we spelt it Kalahari, but it still sounds the same.

Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park.  Sanparks Kgalagadi   Where the red dunes and scrub fade into infinity and herds of gemsbok, springbok, eland and blue wildebeest follow the seasons, where imposing camel thorn trees provide shade for huge black-mane lions and vantage points for leopard and many raptors... this is the Kgalagadi Transfrontier National Park. An amalgamation of the Kalahari Gemsbok National Park in South Africa (proclaimed in 1931) and the Gemsbok National Park in Botswana, the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park comprises an area of over 3, 6 million hectares – one of very few conservation areas of this magnitude left in the world.   (From their Official Information Guide)

Travelling to Nieuwoudtville

We travelled with an overnight stop in Nieuwoudtville, famed as the bulb capital of the world, with its spring display of wild flowers. A glorious part of Namaqualand’s spring performance. On via Brandvlei, and a flat tyre in the middle of nowhere. To our first night at the camp just inside the gate – Tweerivieren (two rivers, two usually dry rivers!)

R27 near Brandvlei

This little fellow, who might look like a chipmunk, is a ground squirrel. Mostly vegetarian, with a few insects. Their leader is a lady. They wander around the camp, collecting dinner. Some of them are unfortunately so used to people that they shared the Ungardener’s (unsalted) peanuts, from his fingers, almost from his lap! When they remember that people are dangerous, they run like hell for their burrows.

Ground squirrel at Tweerivieren camp

Someone thought our weavers nests were like a condo. Uh uh. Ours live in free standing homes with garden and views. Yes there are neighbours, who adhere to the set architectural guidelines (Gaudi or Hundertwasser maybe?). But a condo it is not. The Ungardener has always been intrigued by weavers building their nests. Especially these sociable weavers Philetairus socius.

 

As we drove along the main road north, almost every telephone pole had a humungous sociable weavers nest on it. The grass for building is there, but there are almost no trees – so use a convenient telephone pole. The nests are so big, and so heavy, that the poles often buckle under the strain. In places the authorities have been forced to bury the telephone lines.

If there are trees, they will build on lower branches to get some shade. There can be up to 300 birds (including chicks), perhaps 50 chambers. We live below, for protection from predators, and ease of access for the residents, a gated community. Due to effective insulation, in the nest, winter stays above 15C, and summer below 30C. Quite comfortable, I am sure you’ll agree. The pygmy falcon shares the nest for winter, protecting the birds from lizards and insects in return. Cape cobras can destroy the entire population, moving steadily thru the whole nest. And the honey badger will tear the nest apart to get at the eggs and chicks. Facts from their Official Information Guide

(PS This is still the post I struggled with before. Weird. Please ignore the UNHELP from Blogger! Yesterday's restios was fine ...?)
And the journey scrolls on Kgalagadi 1 Kgalagadi 2 Kgalagadi 3