Well earned names

Wistfully looking back at how our garden grew. We garden for wildlife. The most spectacular wildlife in our walled small town garden flies in. The jewelled Malachite Kingfisher has returned to take lunch with us. No, I’ll pass on the frog’s legs thanks.

Malachite Kingfisher, visiting our garden
Thanks to my niece Claire - this young bird has a black bill,
which will turn red when he grows up

The Story of Elephant’s Eye

Chapter 2

Black Stork Island

Naming of parts at Elephant’s Eye

UPDATE: In November Ungardening Pond is circled with purple spires as I've solved the marginal planting problem.

We are in January looking thru the eyes of the Roman god Janus both towards and back.  Last week I looked towards and chose my first tree for the False Bay garden which waits for us. 

The Story of Elephant’s Eye

Chapter 1

Today I look back at Elephant's Eye. I choose Summer Gold at Paradise and Roses - adding a little bling to your ‘yellow border’. Since I love words and my garden, I am recalling Naming of Parts.

In December 2006 work begins on Pani's Falls

Gardening for wildlife in a Cape winter

We garden for wildlife. If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound? Between RL and gardening, rediscover your sense of wonder. Take time out, see what wildlife makes its home, or pauses, in your garden.

In Paradise and Roses both of our strelitzias have a flower open. I know our strelitzias are grown in California, I wonder if the hummingbirds use them as a nectar source? Strong stem and a bowl overflowing with nectar brings an impatient queue of  masked weavers and  Cape weavers.

Strelitzia reginae occurs naturally only in South Africa: eastern coast, from Humansdorp to northern KwaZulu-Natal in coastal bush and thicket. It grows along river banks in full sun, however sometimes it occurs and flowers on margins of forest in shade – from PlantZAfrica.

Weaver on Strelitzia

In the pond grows, with June's winter flowers

If I was a minimalist, if I had to accept the tiniest courtyard garden, these six plants would satisfy me. A tree for structure. A shrub for shelter. A pioneer to nurse its companions along. A groundcover to carpet the bare earth. A pelargonium to flute in PINK, accompanied by mellow blues on shrub and groundcover.

Kingfisher and reeds

In this tiniest of gardens, as I sit under the tree, there will be water.

Today we have Naming of Parts

Anne Perry's quintet was written around the First World War. I have just finished the fourth book – At some disputed barricade. A poem we learnt at school was Henry Reed's 1942 'Naming of Parts'. I have always been fascinated by the fact that widgets and gizmos and thingamajigs do have precise and particular names, if that is what you work with.  

Dani is moving to the farm, but that farm needs a name! Like pub signs, as you drive across country, South African farms have intriguing names, that could and do tell a story. Just outside Porterville is a dairy farm, called Gelukwaarts. The waarts bit is obvious – forward  – This Way! For Geluk you need Dutch or German (and they got it from the English luck!). Happiness. Imagine driving along, heading for home, and turning where the sign says – This Way to Happiness!

Black Stork Island

Life returns to Ungardening Pond

Little by little we are refilling the pond, after relining it. And how immediately life returns. The frogs have been with us, their lives lived out hunting crickets in the mulch layer we try to cover the garden in. A blur of movement, and a frog emerges as the watering can shower disturbs him. We heard reed frogs clicking in the afternoon, frogs croaking and raucous toads bellowing at night. Now there are tadpoles, drawing back our kingfishers (waiting on better pictures, but the birds are back at long last)

Ungardening Pond in autumn

On Ungardening Pond 4

In May we walked together in hopeful optimism round our pond. By June you can see winter rain falling, and filling the pond, but, to our mounting despair, you can also see a tideline on the beach. He looks at me sadly and says we keep topping up, it’s winter, can’t be evaporation. There must be a leak!

June, with an exposed tideline on the beach
and winter rain

Vlei lilies in Plum Creek

At the edge of the wheat-fields and along the road side verges, where the farmers spray weed-killer and the authorities send out teams with ride on mowers. One of the plants they fight, in the boggy hollows where the winter rain collects, is this vlei lily. Wurmbea stricta

The long and the short view. Walking around Ungardening Pond

M’sieur Chocolat frequently brings us presents. He is greeted by me wailing - What have you got NOW?! We try to rescue the presents. ‘Please, don’t bring all the garden inhabitants home to play’ But if he is considerate enough to bring them in - we do get a chance to photograph something we hear. A gentle splash as we approach the water, or an almighty din when the moon is out.

Apple Creek and the Elephant’s Eye Light Railway

Once upon a time the Ungardener had a toy train. Somewhere along the way, as he grew up, his mother gave it away. As a child, I never had a teddy-bear. I inherited one from my sister. Grown up, I said to myself - stop whining - you want a teddy-bear - GET a teddy-bear. 

October 2008

On Ungardening Pond 3

This is about Ungardening. The construction of the pond (1) started in November 2006.  Pani's Falls was one of the Ungardener's earliest projects, while the builders were still working on the house. NON-gardeners LOL at people who work on the garden, when the house is still not done - and we, we wonder what on earth they are laughing at? How can you NOT garden if you have 'Give me land, lots of land ...' Why Black Stork Island? We first filled the  pond (2) in January 2008.

Here the water level has already dropped somewhat

Our kingfisher is back

Last January we got terribly excited. We had an adult kingfisher teaching junior to fish for lunch. Papa said ‘Now watch carefully dear. We dive gracefully, perfectly, like an Olympic Gold Medallist. If those clumsy two-legs listen V E R Y carefully, they may ‘just’ hear me touch the water with my beak.’ And papa flew back into his perch on the tree, and swallowed his Lunch.

Best the old Canon could do, last January

Dragons and a damsel

The Ungardener is having fun exploring the possibilities of his new camera. Sometimes - why won't it do that? Why doesn't it focus? What on earth is it doing? And then he caught a blaze of dragonflies (Tx Wikipedia collective nouns), and a far more elusive and fragile damsel. But despite the name, these are all highly visible MALES.

TWO RED

Wagtails and a frog

We have frogs. I said FROGS!! There are enchanting little clicking reed frogs, usually start up around 4 in the afternoon. A gentle little murmur in the background, very soothing and reassuring. The woodwinds. Sadly we only see them when Chocolat has found them, and I don't like to post sad pictures of the (walking) wounded. If you have a cat … you can fill in the dots for yourself.


Then after dark the real frogs get chirruping. A little louder, but still a restful noise, a lulling lullaby. The string quartet. We do like our frogs. A good noise, the sound of the sea rolling peacefully in, and out, or a river flowing by.

This frog was photographed at night 

January flowers in our garden

Just before our camera threw up its hands, and said - Right I'm off - and gave up the ghost …

Abelia and Adam-ant

We had a morning with the tail end of sea fog rolling in from Langebaan lagoon, and rising when it hits our mountains, to give us a dense cover of low cloud. One grateful reason why, altho it gets HOT in Porterville, it doesn't get as hot as it does, over the mountain, and inland to the Karoo. Semi-desert.

Bulrush or Bullrush

We have been gardening for over 30 years, so I no longer remember if we once bought this. At the annual plant sale at Kirstenbosch? Or if it came as a bonus with another waterplant? Or if birds, or the wind gifted it to us? There was a clump of bulrushes in the patio pool at the first house. And that was one of the plants that travelled with us. Had to find a temporary home for the ‘pond’ while we were in a rented house, and the second house was built. Then of course it took a long time to make the pond since the Ungardener does the Ungardening himself, with some help for the really heavy labour. He didn’t actually DIG the pond himself.

We used 2 large baby baths April 2007

On Ungardening Pond 2

Making our pond a home

Waiting for ...

Because we were renting for a year, we got 2 large baby baths for the papyrus, bull rushes, water lilies – and as many snails as I could rescue from the last pond. Water lilies were very happy in the baby baths and made flowers. Now they have whole pond, they are still sulking. May have to make a dedicated pond with STILL water for them. Would still like the “common or garden” true blue we (used to?) see on farm dams.

On Ungardening Pond 1

by Diana Studer
- gardening for biodiversity

May 2016

RIP Rasta Pani

Rasta Pani in 2006 before we built the Porterville house

Rasta Pani in 2007 building Pani's Falls
(Pani is Sanskrit for hand)

Construction and Pani's Falls

We began in November 2006 ...

Apart from, you can never have too many trees, the Ungardener’s other maxim is, your pond can never be too big. This is about half the size he was planning on. We once saw a garden in Switzerland, where they had basically turned the ENTIRE garden into a huge pond. And that is what he wanted.

Rest and Be Thankful

by Diana Studer
- gardening for biodiversity

EDITED January 2014

Rest and Be Thankful, near Loch Lomond in Scotland

In the early nineties we travelled through Scotland. In a large figure eight, through the Highlands, all the way up to John O’ Groats. I had no idea Scotland was so large it would take days to travel through.

Young dragonfly, going to fly!

Dragonflies like to be around water because the kids are submariners. They can spend more than a year living in the mud at the bottom of your pond. They have voracious appetites, and will devour almost all the mosquito larvae. The larger nymphs will even eat tadpoles and (small) fish!

When he graduates, from the water to the air, to Flying School, he will climb up some convenient (you did plant some?) reeds. About a handspan up, into his place in the sun. There he will pop out of his baby clothes. His newly issued wings are folded up like a parachute. Now the terror of the skies is at his most vulnerable. Those fragile new wings must have body fluid pumped through the veins to unfold them. And when his wings are strong and able, he ... will ... fly!