We had chosen to botanise in the Western Heights. Dorothy was back from visiting family, but Maggie was home taking delivery of a very special chair—it would need to be to miss a Thursday! A quick stop at Beacon Hill to jump into the Jimnys, and we were on our way. There was a lot of chatter, as there was plenty to catch up on.
 |
| Apodytes abbottii |
The road to the Western Heights is bumpy, full of rocks, and this week, full of water and mud after the wonderful rain we had received. The track often changes course when it becomes unmanageable, so you had best hold onto your breeches.The gate to the reserve was off its hinges; it had been for a while, we can’t remember when last we had to stop to open and close it. The strands of barbed wire marking the boundary of the reserve are rusty and decayed, the fence having long stopped serving its purpose.
 |
| Western Hieghts |
The grassland looked healthy, except for the cattle paths that cut through the veld. We were looking for short grass to make the walking easier, so we drove to the burnt section where the new growth was green and fresh. The heavy footprint of the grazing cattle was unmistakable. A clear contrast exists between the inaccessible areas of the reserve and the open flats, where the plants were visibly stunted and the grass was short due to constant grazing. Large herds of cattle moved about freely as is the norm now.
 |
| Tiny mushrooms growing from cattle poop |
The first little flower that caught my attention was a Thunbergia atriplicifolia (Natal primrose). Its pale, butter-yellow petals had been neatly eaten away—no doubt by a hungry caterpillar—giving the flower a quirky notched appearance. Nature creates beauty all the time; if you slow down long enough, you will see so much. This hardy, low-growing shrublet belongs to the family Acanthaceae. The genus honors Carl Peter Thunberg, a student of Linnaeus who collected thousands of local specimens in the 1770s and became known as the "Father of South African Botany".
 |
| Thunbergia atriplicifolia |
Our next eye-catching find was a new leaf of a Berkheya speciosa (skraaldisseldoring) nestled close to the soil. Its deeply lobed, wavy margins were dramatically edged in dark maroon and heavily armed with sharp, spiny teeth. The lobes were neatly curled, exposing the striking contrast of the white, felt-like under-surface against the vivid green of the upper leaf. It is a member of the Asteraceae family. No doubt, these impressive leaves will later give rise to large, bright yellow, daisy-like flower heads during the summer months. Berkheya was named in honour of Johannes le Francq van Berkhey, a prominent Dutch physician, botanist, lecturer, and natural history illustrator. It is a massive genus for South Africa—of the around 75 species known globally, 71 are strictly native here.
 |
| Berkheya speciosa |
Nearby, Dorothy and Hilary stopped to admire the grey-green, suede-like leaves of a Helichrysum acutatum (sticky everlasting), where rich golden-yellow flower heads sat on long, slender stalks. It belongs to the family Asteraceae, with its genus name beautifully translating from the Greek words for "sun" and "gold." An older Afrikaans common name for this plant is tontelbossie (tinder bush), as early field travelers and trackers would strip the woolly, felt-like hair right off the leaves, dry it out, and use it as a highly effective, slow-burning tinder to catch sparks when starting fires in the veld. Out on the exposed flats, this dense layer of greyish, woolly hairs continues to serve its original purpose, protecting the plant from the harsh sun and minimizing moisture loss in the grassland.
 |
| Helichrysum acutatum |
Flashes of burnt umber and yellow flowers sitting above distinctly textured, dull sage-green trifoliate leaves could only belong to Eriosema umtamvunense (Umtamvuna eriosema). Looking closely at the dense flower clusters, the calyx lobes and surrounding bracts were heavily clad in long, velvety, spreading hairs, providing a perfect platform for a little spotted leaf beetle that had stopped by. If you turn over the leaves, you will find a finely woolly, grey-to-white underside peppered with tiny, distinct yellow glands. We didn’t flip a leaf over to check for them on this visit—a good reminder to look out for them next time! Belonging to the family Fabaceae, its specific name umtamvunense is a deeply specific geographical title meaning "belonging to the Umtamvuna," referencing the fact that this rare, Endangered (EN) species is a narrow endemic restricted strictly to the ancient Msikaba sandstone formations around the Umtamvuna River gorge. Belonging sounds just too wonderful.
 |
| Eriosema umtamvunense with spotted leaf beetle |
A white, flat-topped flower head sparked our weekly Thursday debate: Crassula alba or Crassula vaginata (yellow stonecrop)? Dorothy sagely declared that the difference between the two still eludes her, so after photographing it closely, we moved on. Fortunately, according to the official SANBI Diagnostic keys, there are a few ironclad, definitive features to help tell them apart. Back home, a look at these finer details settled the mystery. Crassula vaginata belongs to the family Crassulaceae, a genus named after the Latin word for "thick" or "fleshy," which perfectly describes the succulent leaves that give it a water-storing edge. Local isiXhosa tracking traditions call it uphuncuka—referring to this slippery, fleshy survival mechanism. While it looks nearly identical to Crassula alba, it is distinguished by highly prominent leaf sheaths that wrap like a collar longer than 10 mm around the stem. Crucially, our close-up photos confirmed that the stem internodes were completely smooth and hairless, clinching the ID for Crassula vaginata over the rough-haired stems of Crassula alba.
 |
| Crassula vaginata |
A cheerful gold daisy flower sat proudly atop a remarkably long, wire-like stem, swaying above a dense mound of small, feathery, deeply lobed leaves. It was Euryops leiocarpus (smooth-fruited resin bush). A tiny black-and-yellow grasshopper observed us from its perch on top of the petals. Euryops leiocarpus belongs to the family Asteraceae, its genus name translating from the Greek for "wide eye" to perfectly match these open golden daisy heads. Highly localized and indigenous to our coastal sandstone slopes and grasslands, its specific name leiocarpus means "smooth fruit," pointing to its bald seeds. It handles the elements of the ridges beautifully, and carries a neat history: many species in this genus naturally coat their woody stems in a sticky, highly flammable aromatic resin, which historically led early field travelers and trackers to gather the branches to burn as long-lasting veld torches.
 |
| Euryops leiocarpus |
Hilary was perched on a nearby rock as happy as a Cheshire cat, pointing out a little Wahlenbergia huttonii (Hutton's bellflower). Small, precise, deep lilac flowers balanced on slender, wire-like stalks that swayed gently in the grassland breeze. Classified under the family Campanulaceae, the genus honors Göran Wahlenberg, a Swedish professor of botany, while the species honors Henry Hutton, a dedicated 19th-century South African plant collector. It is well-adapted to our rocky sandstone grasslands. Next to the Wahlenbergia huttonii, tucked among the burnt branches of a protea, was a Cycnium racemosum (large mountain ink flower). Its fragile, large pink blooms stood out dramatically against the blackened wood. It is also referred to as the mushroom flower because it reliably bursts into bloom right alongside the arrival of the mushroom season. Cycnium racemosum belongs to the family Orobanchaceae, its genus name stemming from the Greek word for a swan to match the elongated, elegant corolla tube that bends gracefully like a swan's neck. It is a root hemiparasite, tapping into neighboring grasses for water while its own green leaves photosynthesise. It carries a fantastic history in the veld; early travelers and local communities would collect the blooms to make a highly functional substitute for writing ink, as its bruised tissues naturally bleed a dark fluid that dries to a permanent pitch-black, a trait mirrored in its traditional isiZulu name, uhlabahlangane. This plant is definitely for our botanical artist Gail.
 |
| Wahlenbergia huttonii |
 |
| Cycnium racemosum |
The day was stunning; the sun was warm and comforting, but the wind was at our heels. Weaving in and out of the rocks, searching for plants—this is what life is about. In a small, soil-filled crack, a Tritonia disticha (red tritonia) waved around in the wind, its bright red, trumpet-shaped flower catching our eyes. Tritonia disticha belongs to the family Iridaceae. It grows from a fibrous-coated underground corm. The erect, sword-shaped leaves are arranged in a distinct, fan-like, two-ranked pattern, which gives rise to its species name, disticha. The funnel-shaped, bilaterally symmetrical flowers are typically borne along lean, wiry, branching spikes.
 |
| Tritonia disticha |
Around a boulder, growing in a crevice, was Dalbergia obovata (climbing flat bean), a robust scrambler representing the family Fabaceae. This tough climber had tightly anchored itself into the rocky fissure, using its modified, tendril-like hook branches to rise to new heights. Coming closer, you were treated to an intimate look at its glossy, dark green compound leaves, which framed sprawling, heavily branched sprays of minute, creamy-white flowers. These delicate, pea-like blossoms clustered together in the leaf axils, their soft cream tones standing out beautifully against the deep golden-brown hue of the young, woody twigs.
 |
| Dalbergia obovata |
The jolly lilac flowers of a Nemesia species (cape snapdragon) smiled up at us from among the rocks. We knew we had found a Nemesia, but deciding between Nemesia caerulea and Nemesia denticulata kept us debating. Because both species can feature sessile, sharply toothed leaves along their stems, looking at the foliage didn't help us settle it. The only way to actually tell them apart is to peer right into the mouth of the flower to see if the colourful pouched palate is covered in fine, tiny hairs, which is a feature of Nemesia caerulea, whereas Nemesia denticulata remains completely smooth and hairless. It was an oversight on our part not looking closely enough—another reminder that botany can’t be rushed! This genus belongs to the family Scrophulariaceae. The distinctive pouch or short spur at the base of the lower flower lip acts as a specialized nectar guide, perfectly evolved to welcome visiting insect pollinators.
 |
| Nemesia species |
It was amazing how remarkably neat and pretty the next plant was, quietly tucked low into the grassland matrix. Dyschoriste burchellii small, pure white flowers resting against equally neat foliage, where the old, long, brown, wiry styles from previous blossoms made the entire cluster look like a stylised arrangement. Belonging to the family Acanthaceae. It is highly recognizable by its calyx lobes, which are densely fringed with fine white hairs. Mixed among these hairs are tiny, scattered, stalked glands. To the naked eye, they remain hidden, but peer through a hand lens and they look like delicate dew droplets clinging to the green sepals.
 |
| Dyschoriste burchellii |
Grewia occidentalis (cross-berry) belongs to the family Malvaceae. This scrambling shrub or small tree is well-adapted to rocky ridges, forest margins, and open woodlands across South Africa. It gets its common names from its distinctive, four-lobed square fruits that sit together in the shape of a miniature cross, turning a deep reddish-brown when ripe. These sweet, edible fruits are highly relished by humans—often used to make traditional jams—as well as by monkeys and a variety of birds like louries and mousebirds, which act as primary seed dispersers. The nutritious foliage is actively browsed by game like bushbuck and duiker, while the plant serves as a vital larval host for butterflies like the rufous-winged elfin and the buff-tipped skipper. It is a striking plant, but certainly not for a small garden, as they are vigorous scramblers!
 |
| Grewia occidentalis |
The unbranched flowering stems of Hypoxis hemerocallidea (African potato / inkomfe) bear six-tepalled, star-like yellow flowers that open sequentially from spring through summer. They greet the warm morning sun, radiating a brilliant warmth against the surrounding green growth. I keep a special place in my heart for them, though I must confess I always think "hemorrhoid" when trying to recall the specific name—which is a highly effective memory trick, provided you don't accidentally blurt it out loud! Hypoxis hemerocallidea belongs to the family Hypoxidaceae. It is easily distinguished from its hairless relatives by its sickle-shaped, strap-like leaves that are neatly arranged in three rows and heavily fringed with distinct white hairs.
 |
| Hypoxis hemerocallidea |
We literally stumbled upon Alepidea peduncularis as the ground was very uneven, but a close examination of its structural anatomy and precise habitat leaves no room for debate about its identity. Within the Umtamvuna Nature Reserve, both species occur, but Alepidea peduncularis is far more common and widely distributed. While the elusive Alepedia amatymbica is a localized specialist restricted to deep, shaded river gorges, wet forest margins, and damp cliff seeps—and heavily depleted outside protected borders due to traditional medicine over-harvesting—Alepidea peduncularis thrives as an open-terrain generalist across the flat, sunny plateaus covered in Pondoland Sandstone Sourveld grasslands.
The definitive proof lies in the immutable shape of both the foliage and tuhe flower architecture captured in the photos. Looking closely at the basal rosette in the right panel, the leaf blades taper smoothly and gradually into distinct cuneate (wedge-shaped) bases where they meet the ground—completely lacking the broad, squared-off (truncate) or deeply heart-shaped (cordate) leaf bases that remain constant across all Alepidea amatymbica variations. This diagnosis is further solidified by the inflorescence details in the left panel; the star-like flower heads display a neat, symmetrical ring featuring a highly distinct alternating pattern of larger and smaller bracts totaling 8 to 11. This structural layout completely rules out Alepidea amatymbica, which is strictly restricted to a lopsided arrangement of exactly 5 main unequal bracts. This combination of an open-grassland habitat, a wedge-shaped leaf, and a multi-bracted flower structure firmly diagnoses this specimen as Alepidea peduncularis.
 |
| Alepidea amatymbica |
Blending into the surrounding green was Euphorbia natalensis (Natal spurge), representing the family Euphorbiaceae. Spiky green leaves alternate up the stem to the top, where they give way to pale, greenish-yellow flowering branches that create a subtle splash of texture in the grass. Like all members of its genus, it features specialized flowering structures called cyathia and contains a milky, latex sap that is highly irritating to the skin and eyes, serving as a powerful deterrent against herbivores.
 |
| Euphorbia natalensis |
The vibrant orange flowers of Watsonia bachmannii (Pondoland bugle lily) were not easily ignored—except, of course, if you have a total aversion to orange, in which case you had best look away and move right on! Watsonia bachmannii belongs to the family Iridaceae. It is a rare, range-restricted endemic confined strictly to the specialized, moisture-rich sandstone ecosystems between the Umtamvuna and Mkweni rivers. It is officially assessed as Vulnerable (VU), with remaining wild subpopulations continuing to face significant, ongoing decline due to overgrazing, habitat degradation, and disruptions to local water tables.
 |
| Watsonia bachmannii |
As we walked, we noticed Hilliardiella hirsuta (quilted-leaf vernonia) in various stages of its life cycle. Plants simultaneously showed fresh flowers alongside developing and fully mature seed heads. Its leaves are luxuriously quilted and covered in fine hairs, featuring sharply toothed margins where tiny, precise points protruded right from the tips of the teeth. The frilly, deep purple, composite flower heads mature sequentially into small, ribbed fruits topped with a crown of fine, bristly hairs; these act as built-in seed parachutes perfectly designed for wind dispersal across the open flats. It is a member of the family Asteraceae.
 |
| Hilliardiella hirsuta |
Walking between the ancient sandstone boulders, the magenta-to-purple flower spikes of Ledebouria asperifolia (rough-leaved African hyacinth) were just so lovely. I have long held a fascination for Ledebouria, and finding them always feels like discovering hidden jewels. This resilient geophyte belongs to the family Asparagaceae. Its strap-shaped, olive-green leaves are beautifully marked with dark purple spots, but what truly sets it apart is its unique texture. Right at the bottom of the leaves on the underneath side—the basal underside—check for the diagnostic rough bumps (asperities). Arising from a small underground bulb shielded by dark brown outer scales, its early summer flower stalks bear dense, upright clusters of small, bell-shaped blossoms with recurved petals and distinct violet filaments.
 |
| Ledebouria asperifolia |
As we explored around the edge on a narrow shelf, we had to make our way around a Maesa lanceolata (false assegai / valsassegaai) in full flower. This narrow ledge brought us face to face with its sprawling, heavily branched sprays of minute white flowers, which stood out beautifully against the golden hue of the twigs and green foliage. This species belongs to the family Maesaceae, though modern global classification systems have since lumped it into the broader primuloid family, Primulaceae. A highly variable, fast-growing large shrub or small tree, it thrives along forest margins, streambanks, and moist cliff lines. It features large, lance-shaped leaves with distinct, sharply toothed margins and prominently raised veins underneath. The individual, microscopic flowers are bell-shaped and give rise to massive, dense clusters of small, spherical berries that turn a creamy-white or yellow when ripe, and are enjoyed by many fruit-eating birds.
 |
| Maesa lanceolata |
Around the corner, following Anne’s directions carefully as we were closer to the edge than we realized, we saw the delicate, trailing Oldenlandia tenella (slender oldenlandia). Its tiny, round leaves glistened as it clung tightly to the damp sandstone, bearing chaste little white flowers that poked through the green mat. Oldenlandia tenella belongs to the family Rubiaceae. This delicate, prostrate perennial herb features slender, trailing stems that readily root at the nodes, allowing it to form dense, creeping mats over moisture-rich substrates. It develops small, ovate-to-rounded leaves and bears tiny, four-lobed, star-shaped blossoms on lean, capillary-like stalks. It is perfectly adapted to thriving within shaded rock crevices, damp forest floors, and mist-laden sandstone cliffs throughout the eastern summer-rainfall regions of South Africa.
 |
| Oldenlandia tenella |
Hanging down right next to the Oldenlandia were the leaves of a Gerbera ambigua (botterblom). The wavy margins of the rich green leaves hinted at the dense, snow-white felt hidden underneath, rolling slightly over the edges to create a crisp, painted outline against the glossy upper surface. This stemless, tufted perennial daisy belongs to the family Asteraceae. It features highly variable, prostrate leaves that form a low basal rosette hugging the sandstone rock face or soil. The leaves are shiny green above but completely white- or yellow-felted with dense, velvety hairs underneath, a specialized design that helps reflect intense sunlight and minimize moisture loss on exposed cliffs.
 |
| Gerbera ambigua |
Below, winding around the grass for support, was one of the sweetest flowers, Caesia contorta (blue grasslily / sokkiesblom). It displayed little lilac stars with delicate white filaments with purple bands, topped with bright yellow anthers protruding from the center, creating a beautifully detailed miniature arrangement nestled low in the grass. Caesia contorta belongs to the family Asphodelaceae. This evergreen, rhizomatous geophyte forms sprawling, untidy tussocks of grass-like, grey-green leaves. Its short-lived flowers open sequentially in the afternoon, featuring petals that characteristically twist and wind tightly together as they wither, which gives the species its name. Its tri-colored stamens resemble tiny striped sock cuffs, giving rise to its Afrikaans common name.
 |
| Caesia contorta |
Hilary asked what Helichrysum the bunches of white and yellow flowers belonged to. It was Helichrysum felinum (strawberry everlasting). It was easy to see why it caught her eye; the densely crowded terminal clusters of small, crisp white papery bracts surrounding flat, bright golden-yellow centres are very appealing. Calling them "flowers" is actually a very common mistake! What look like traditional white petals are not petals at all, but rather specialized, modified leaves called involucral bracts that form a protective cup around the tiny, true yellow flowers tightly packed into the center. Helichrysum felinum belongs to the family Asteraceae. The specific epithet felinum comes from the Latin word for "cat-like," dating back to 1737 when botanist Paul Hermann noted that the plush, velvety texture of the unopened buds and woolly stems perfectly resembled a soft cat's paw.
 |
| Helichrysum felinum |
Walking slowly down the steep embankment there was a single Disa versicolor. At a quick glance it didn’t look like much, but when you got down and had a look at the open flowers they were really quite captivating. This specific name, versicolor, means "variously coloured," referencing how the blooms transition from warm apricot-orange and deep ochre on the hood to a pale greenish-yellow base. A member of the orchid family, Orchidaceae, the flower features outer sepals framed by deep ruby-red margins. Looking directly inside reveals a lime-green with dark magenta-burgundy spots. Glistening right at the heart is a tiny, frosted-white viscidium (a specialized reproductive structure), which secretes a sticky fluid to cement pollen packets onto visiting insects as they crawl inside seeking nectar.
 |
Disa versicolor
Photo credit Anne |
Gail came back with a few lovely discoveries of her own. Not all who wander are lost, some are just botanising! Disa sagittalis is a charming terrestrial orchid belonging to the family Orchidaceae. This lithophytic perennial features up to ten narrow leaves tightly clustered in a neat basal rosette. What immediately captures the eye are the slender, erect flowering stems that support dense, striking spikes of pale lilac flowers. Then Gail saw Lotononis bachmannii, a rare and narrow Pondoland endemic representing the family Fabaceae. Its small, trifoliate leaves and loose cluster of delicate, purple-blue pea-like flowers is no doubt what caught Gail’s eye.
 |
Disa sagittalis
Photo credit Gail |
 |
Lotononis bachmannii
Photo credit Gail |
Then we saw an interesting plant with obovate, opposite leaves and a dramatically tapering seed pod densely covered in soft, fleshy prickles. It was Schizoglossum atropurpureum subsp. virens. Choosing this genus and species comes down to a perfect matching of keys. While many members of the family Apocynaceae produce smooth, twin pods, the genus Schizoglossum is famous for these solitary, heavily textured fruit follicles armed with soft prickles. When you couple that distinctive fruit with oppositely arranged leaves that are distinctly obovate, it eliminates lookalikes and points straight to this species.
 |
| Schizoglossum atropurpureum subsp. virens |
Yellow is such a happy colour and Phymaspermum acerosum (geelblombos), wears it so well. Its large, flat-topped flower heads formed massive, bright yellow clusters that looked like vibrant drops of sunshine capping the vegetation. Belonging to the family Asteraceae, this robust, multi-stemmed perennial shrub is an excellent example of an opportunistic pioneer species. Its names provide the perfect identification guide: the genus Phymaspermum comes from the Greek words for "swelling" and "seed" (referring to its distinctively shaped fruit), while acerosum stems from the Latin for "needle-abundance," a nod to its crowded, exceptionally fine, needle-like leaves. Hidden right at the base of the midrib on the underside of each feathery leaf is a large, gland-like swelling. The individual golden flower heads lack outer ray petals, developing instead into tight, button-like discs that hold their brilliant colour exceptionally well.
 |
| Phymaspermum acerosum |
The Polystachya pubescens (amabelejongosi) were in full form, and clusters of these warm yellow orchids decorated the grassland. Belonging to the family Orchidaceae, this resilient, lithophytic orchid is perfectly at home amoung the exposed sandstone rock faces. It forms tight groups of small, egg-shaped pseudobulbs that store water, allowing it to withstand the harsh sun and winds on the ridges. The striking, hairy-backed yellow flowers are inverted, presenting their distinctively red-pubescent, three-lobed lips uppermost to incoming pollinators, creating a brilliant splash of gold against the ancient sandstone.
 |
| Polystachya pubescens |
Tucked neatly into a shaded, rock-strewn nook beneath the canopy, we spotted the neat fan of leaves belonging to Rangaeris muscicola. It was incredibly exciting to catch it right as it was producing an emerging inflorescence, with a single, slender, light-green flower bud curving outwards on a remarkably long nectar spur. This resilient lithophyte belongs to the family Orchidaceae. It secures its tight, V-shaped fan of stiff, leathery leaves directly to the sandstone with thick, fleshy grey roots. When that long-spurred bud finally opens, it will reveal a pristine white, star-like bloom that releases a heavenly, sweet scent late in the evening—a fragrant invitation specially designed to attract night-flying hawkmoths.
 |
| Rangaeris muscicola |
Twining its way gracefully through the surrounding vegetation, we came across Rhynchosia totta (yellow climbing bean). This delicate scrambler is easily recognized by its trifoliate leaves with narrow, linear-oblong leaflets. A closer look at the leaflet junction reveals a wonderful set of microscopic keys: a dense fringe of fine, spreading hairs and two minute, pointed stipels standing out sharply at the base of the leaflets. Belonging to the family Fabaceae, it twines effortlessly through the vegetation.
 |
| Rhynchosia totta |
Anne called me over to see Delosperma carterae (Pondoland ice plant) flowering on the pavement sandstone. The white flowers with their soft pink centers are a breathtaking sight, glistening vibrantly against the harsh, baked rock face. This creeping succulent belongs to the family Aizoaceae. A rare endemic strictly localized to these specialized pavement sandstones of our region, it is masterfully engineered to handle the extreme heat of the open flats. Its low-growing, fleshy green leaves are covered in thousands of tiny, shimmering water cells that reflect the scorching sun like microscopic ice crystals, allowing it to preserve precious moisture and burst into these daisy-like blooms right when everything else seems to bake.
 |
| Delosperma carterae |
It was so amazing to find the next plant, and Uschi instantly identified the stunning, deeply lobed leaves as Dioscorea multiloba (wild yam). Belonging to the family Dioscoreaceae, this climbing tuberous perennial twines gracefully through the vegetation. True to its specific epithet, its most eye-catching feature is its large, highly decorative leaves, which are consistently and deeply split into three, five, or seven sharp lobes with prominently patterned veins. It definitely added a beautiful, architectural texture to our day.
 |
| Dioscorea multiloba |
Close by, the trifoliate leaves of Searsia acocksii (Pondo climbing currant) caught my eye. The vibrant green leaflets, beautifully patterned with pale lime-green veins and an elegant pink flush on the fresh new growth, made it stand out immediately. The small, sharp, backward-curving spines along the stems clinched the ID. Belonging to the family Anacardiaceae, this rare, range-restricted scrambler is a South African endemic strictly confined to the scarp forests and rocky sandstone river gorges of the Pondoland Centre of Endemism. It is officially assessed as Near Threatened (NT), primarily because its sensitive forest-margin habitat faces ongoing pressure from frequent, intense grassland fires. Finding it climbing securely among the rocks is a heartening reminder of the ancient, hidden pockets this reserve works so hard to protect.
 |
| Searsia acocksii |
Hilary called Uschi over to look at Pachycarpus coronarius. It created quite a bit of excitement among the group! This fascinating plant belongs to the family Apocynaceae. What makes this species so breathtaking is the sheer scale of its blossoms; the flowers can grow to be roughly the size of your palm. While they feature somewhat understated, dull greenish-white base tones heavily mottled with deep purplish blotches, they completely make up for it with their massive size and intricately sculpted, crown-like corona lobes that spread boldly outward from the central staminal column. Hilary certainly earned the title of chief spotter on Thursday!
 |
| Pachycarpus coronarius |
Thursdays are all about plants, but finding the tiny creatures that rely on them for food or that are responsible for their pollination is super exciting. So when I spotted the little yellow caterpillar dressed with bright red spines issuing an explicit warning not to touch eating away on a Clutia species leaf, I was absolutely thrilled. It was the larva of Sporetolepis platti, belonging to the family Limacodidae. The body is heavily armed with highly specialized, venomous, spine-like stinging hairs (urticating setae) arranged in neat clusters. Touching these spines releases a potent toxin that causes a severe, burning sting—making it a formidable and beautifully defended little resident of our reserve.
 |
| Sporetolepis platti |
The wind was howling, making standing difficult and photographing almost impossible. So we quickly stopped to admire Lotononis lotononoides (Pondo lotononis) and then moved on. Deep warm purple pea flowers snuggled into the grey-green foliage. Belonging to the family Fabaceae, this prostrate perennial is a rare endemic restricted strictly to the sandstone grasslands of the Pondoland Centre of Endemism. Its specific name, lotononoides, translates directly to "looking like a Lotononis," which is a fun botanical quirk because it is named after its own genus to highlight how perfectly it embodies the classic features of this plant group.
 |
| Lotononis lotononoides |
We turned back towards the Jimnys, the wind thrashing at our backs as we negotiated our way through boulders and Smilax anceps. Gail and Dorothy had climbed into the Jimny to shelter from the wind. Heading back into the teeth of a howling Pondoland gale was a rugged end to the afternoon, but it felt like the perfect punctuation mark for a group that loves nothing more than a wild, beautifully unpredictable Thursday botanising.
 |
Anne showing the tiny mushroom who's boss
Photo credit Anne |
 |
Pondoland C.R.E.W.
Alf Hayter, Gail Bowers-Winters, Hilary Henderson, Tracy Taylor,
Anne Skelton, Dorothy McIntyre, Uschi Teicher |
