A Return to Manilkara

 We returned to Manilkara to see the Pachycarpus that, a few weeks back, were full of the promise of flowers. The weather was indecisive. Grey clouds hung in the sky, bringing with them a cold wind. When they moved away, the sun beat down on us relentlessly. We met Gail and Maggie at Beacon Hill, then we turned the Jimnys around and were off to Manilkara.

Meandering purposefully towards the ocean

The veld had changed in the last two weeks; the grass was greener and thicker. Watsonia inclinata, once pretty and pink, were now finished flowering, having given it their all. Once parked, yes we had our tea and coffee—a nod to Tony Abbott and absent friends. Gail, in true Gail fashion, had arrived with a table, pretty pink napkins, and Forage and Feast chocolate brownies. Happy Birthday, Gail! Here’s to a bouquet of happiness.

Watsonia inclinata

Maggie remained at the top to wander the grassland plateau around the Jimny’s. It is a special area of the reserve. Msikaba sandstone lays exposed, and on the jagged edges where pieces of rock have long fallen away, tumbling down the slope. The river below flows purposefully towards the ocean, not yet finished with the gorge. We ambled down the slope, and it wasn’t too long before I spotted the first one! Pachycarpus asperifolius (Ishongwe Elibomvu) rose up from among the rocks and grass. If you run your fingers over the leaves, they feel scratchy and rough, like fine sandpaper (which is exactly what asperifolius means in Latin: "rough-leaved"). What makes the flowers unique is the tall staminal column. In this specific specimen, that column is unusually tall, sticking out like a tiny pedestal in the middle of the flower to force wasps into a tight trap while they drink nectar. Unlike normal flowers where the male and female parts sit loosely in the center, this milkweed fuses them together into a single, solid column. These perennial geophyte herbs belong to the Apocynaceae family.

Pachycarpus asperifolius

Pachycarpus asperifolius

We walked across the gentle grass slope caught between sandstone cliffs towards the scarp forest, the river far below us. A calm excitement settled over us. The gnarled, twisted, pale grey trunk of a Ficus ingens (Red-leaved rock fig) grew from a crack in a boulder, its branches contorting themselves flat against the sandstone, hanging jealously over the edge. While its mature leaves were ovate-oblong with striking, pale yellow veins, it was the new spring flush that stole the show—vibrant, flaming coppery-red leaves. These trees belong to the Moraceae family. 

Ficus ingens

The grass was wonderfully green, and Scabiosa columbaria (Jongmansknoop) bloomed in varying shades of pink and mauve. It has a growth form of two distinct halves, featuring a dense rosette of broad, tooth-edged leaves hugging the ground, while its tall flowering stems bear deeply divided, feathery leaflets. These perennial herbs belong to the Caprifoliaceae family.

Wonderfully green Umtamvuna Nature Reserve

Scabiosa columbaria

Cigaritis mazambica

The small, pea-like flowers of Indigastrum fastigiatum arranged alternately along a slender, upright green stem don’t look like much from afar, but on closer inspection, the small blossoms are a striking coral-salmon. Looking into the center of the flower, you will see a distinct, dark brownish-black patch at the very base of that top "sail" petal. This confirms its identity. These perennial herbs belong to the Fabaceae family. Our next member of the Fabaceae family was Indigofera hilaris (Red bush indigo). Its striking grey-green leaves were densely covered in silver hairs, catching the shifting sunlight.

Indigastrum fastigiatum

Indigofera hilaris

Saenura flava

Ipomoea crassipes (Leafy morning glory), known locally as Ubhoqo, a common creeping perennial, trailed low through the grass, its white trumpet-shaped flowers flashing a deep, contrasting magenta center to the sky. Culturally revered as a symbol of resilience and inner strength, it sprouts fresh green runners from a deep underground tuber that survives the harshest grassland droughts and fires. These trailing herbs belong to the Convolvulaceae family. The next find had us scratching our heads, but not for long. It was Agathisanthemum bojeri, featuring tight bunches of small, white, trumpet-shaped flowers. Its unopened buds were securely held within prominent, upright, and sharply pointed triangular calyx teeth that sat like little crowns around the blooms. The stems feature the distinct interpetiolar stipules typical of the Rubiaceae family.

Ipomoea crassipes

Agathisanthemum bojeri

We smiled at Ruellia cordata (Heart-leaved ruellia), known locally as Iphambane, nestled low in the grass. We have seen few of them this season, their stems bearing pairs of soft, velvety, heart-shaped leaves that grow at strict right angles to each other, forming neat green crosses that frame the pale violet flowers. These perennial herbs belong to the Acanthaceae family.

Ruellia cordata

Gazania linearis (Treasure flower) added a burst of colour to the open veld. The head is made up of a central disc of tiny fertile flowers ringed by a wheel of long, radiating, lance-shaped ray petals of a radiant golden-yellow. These perennial herbs belong to the Asteraceae family. Last week we found a typical Pigea enneasperma; this week we found a almost white one. This little herb has famously put botanists through a whirlwind of name changes—moving from Hybanthus enneaspermus to Afrohybanthus, and now officially back to Pigea. These small herbs belong to the Violaceae family.

Gazania linearis

Pigea enneasperma

The next flower we found is intriguing; it features unique, deeply notched petals that emerge from a striped base, marked with bold, longitudinal stripes that run like pinstripes from the stem up to the base of the petals. This striped pale green and dark purple base is actually a highly modified tube of fused sepals (the calyx). These unusual blossoms belong to Silene burchellii (Gunpowder plant) and are arranged along just one side of a slender, upright stem. These perennial herbs belong to the Caryophyllaceae family.

Silene burchellii

Hiding in the shade was Monsonia natalensis. This flower always causes a lively debate on our walks since Monsonia natalensis and Monsonia praemorsa are so similar and both share this veld, but looking closely at the leaf shape and gland hairs settles it. While Monsonia praemorsa features oblong, boxy leaves, these leaves were sharply crinkled and widest at the base, tapering naturally toward the top. Furthermore, looking closely at the close-up of the calyx on the reverse of the flower reveals an elongated green tube densely fringed with long, translucent, gland-tipped hairs that glistened under the sun—a specific structural defense completely missing on the simpler coat of Monsonia praemorsa. These perennial herbs belong to the Geraniaceae family.

Monsonia natalensis

Close-up of the calyx revealing translucent,
gland-tipped hairs

As it was getting hotter we decided to go into the forest. On the margin of the woods was an Argyrolobium species with a single yellow pea flower. Uschi and I looked at the specimen perplexed. The species tomentosum was sitting on our lips, but the leaves and solitary bloom didn't feel typical at first glance. Leaning in closer, the puzzle solved itself: the velvet-rimmed, trifoliate leaves and aggressively hairy stems were a classic match for Argyrolobium tomentosum, but we had caught it at the very tail-end of flowering. The main cluster of flowers was almost completely finished, leaving behind empty calyxes and a shaggy, developing seed pod, with our lone yellow flower standing as the very last survivor of the spike. These shrubby perennials belong to the Fabaceae family.

Argyrolobium tomentosum

But it wasn’t all native treasures and celebrations; in the shade of the canopy we came face-to-face with the ever-present threat of alien invasives creeping into these pristine habitats. We encountered the aggressive Lantana camara (Tickberry) and Chromolaena odorata (Triffid weed). We also spotted the feathery green silhouettes of Acacia mearnsii (Black wattle) alongside Cinnamomum camphora (Camphor tree). We pulled what we could as we walked through the forest. A Knysna turaco watched us from the tree branches.

Lantana camara and Chromolaena odorata

Acacia mearnsii and Cinnamomum camphora

In the forest scanning every inch, I recognised Coddia rudis (Small bone-apple). Its identity was given away by its characteristic drooping growth form and distinctively shiny, obovate leaves clustered tightly on thin, angular twigs, hanging gracefully in the shade. These multi-stemmed shrubs belong to the Rubiaceae family.

Coddia rudis

On the forest floor, the digitally compound leaves of Cyphostemma hypoleucum scrambled over the leaf litter, their slender tendrils actively searching for support. This climbing herb owes its common name, the double-barrel vine, to thick, fleshy stems featuring distinctive parallel grooves that resemble the barrels of a shotgun. it is further characterised by the soft, pale, velvety coating on the underside of its leaves-a feature reflected in a specific name, hypoleucum (meaning "pale underneath").  These climbing or trailing forest herbs belong to the Vitaceae family. Emerging nearby were the beautiful new trifoliolate, velvety-green leaves of Dioscorea dregeana (Wild yam). Known locally as Isidakwa ("the drunkard"), this vine belongs to the Dioscoreaceae family. While it is highly prized in traditional medicine for its sedative properties, the raw underground tubers are very toxic. Early farmers utilized this toxicity to protect their vegetable patches, placing pieces of the raw tuber directly into mole tunnels to kill and deter them from raiding crops.

Cyphostemma hypoleucum

Dioscorea dregeana

As Maggie was not with us Anne pointed out that it was almost 1 o’clock and time for lunch. So we sat near a fallen tree that had some delightful fungi growing on it, each of us choosing a quiet spot to eat and recharge. After lunch we made our way towards the grassland as the cloud cover had returned and it was cooler. Creeping through the branches of a dead tree was a Rhoicissus tridentata (Bitter-grape) bearing a rather large, swollen woody stem gall. The bottom of the structure was ringed with tiny, protruding exit tubes left behind by its insect creators. These climbers belong to the Vitaceae family. As it turned out, Mother Nature is not cooperative, and as we stepped out of the shade, the sun began to beat down on us once again.

Genus Lentinus

Rhoicissus tridentata

There was at least a breeze that offered some relief. Walking to the edge out of curiosity, I spotted Polygala fruticosa (Heart-leaved polygala). This ID sparked a protracted debate. Unlike its name suggests and the specimens we had seen two weeks prior, the leaves were not heart-shaped this time. Instead, they were narrowly elliptic and lanceolate, tapering neatly to a sharp point. Also, not all the leaves were opposite. While opposite leaves are diagnostic on this species, some leaves may be alternate. We always need to remember that plants are dynamic, highly variable organisms, and taxonomic descriptions are just a baseline rather than a rigid mold. Many factors contribute to this variability, such as wind and rapid growth stretching the spaces between the stem nodes. This stunning shrub boasted bright magenta, wing-like flowers, each displaying that classic, delicate tufted crest at its center. These tough perennials belong to the Polygalaceae family.

Polygala fruticosa

A meeting of botanists

Tiny yellow flowers of Gnidia coriacea (Tough-bark gnidia) were arranged neatly in small heads at the branch tips, adding bright pinpricks of color against the green grass. These resilient perennial herbs belong to the Thymelaeaceae family. As we walked through an area that we had not walked before, Pachycarpus asperifolius were flowering everywhere. The flowers are so unusual, and on each plant the flowers looked different; some were flat, some curled back, and some twisted. Leaving us to ponder the reason for the differences.

Gnidia coriacea

Pachycarpus asperifolius

In the grass nearby was Convolvulus natalensis (Natal bindweed). Its genus name comes from the Latin convolvere, meaning "to entwine" or "to twist," which perfectly describes the way its creeping stems weave through the grass blades, while natalensis marks its geographic home. Its opened, green-white trumpet flowers faced the sky. These trailing herbs belong to the Convolvulaceae family. Gail found a single spike of Gladiolus dalenii (Isidwi Esibomvu) standing out against the grass. While its isiZulu name translates literally as "the red gladiolus," these elegant, hooded flowers displayed a rich yellow ground colour that was completely covered in a dense pattern of fine red speckles. These summer-growing perennials belong to the Iridaceae family.

Convolvulus natalensis

Gladiolus dalenii
Photo credit Gail

Deep in the grass, a tiny red flower beamed. It was a Striga asiatica (Witchweed). This brilliant little herb belongs to the Orobanchaceae family, and while its scarlet petals add a gorgeous splash of colour to the veld, it survives as a cunning root parasite, drawing its nutrients quietly from the surrounding grasses. Not too far away, belonging to the same family, we saw Striga bilabiata (Two-lipped witchweed). The flowers are remarkably hairy compared to asiatica, featuring two-lipped white petals that fade into a deep purple-brown down the tube. As an interesting fact, both of these witchweeds share a hidden, almost sinister underground lifestyle. Their dust-like seeds can lie completely dormant in the soil seed bank for 10 to 20 years. They strictly refuse to break this long sleep until they sense strigolactones—the distinct chemical "handshake" leaked into the soil by the roots of neighboring grassland host plants, triggering them to wake up and lock onto their host networks. I just love that there is always something new to learn.

Striga asiatica

Striga bilabiata

We had walked to the top of a small rise and growing on the east side was a Eucomis autumnalis (Pineapple lily) standing proudly out from a basal rosette of wavy, strap-like leaves. Its stout flowering stem was packed with pale, star-shaped greenish-white flowers, all topped off with that classic, comical tuft of leaf-like bracts that gives it its pineapple appearance. These summer-growing bulbs belong to the Asparagaceae family. Interestingly, just like the Dioscorea dregeana we encountered in the forest, this plant is famously known as a natural mole deterrent, with its highly toxic underground bulbs exuding a strong subterranean barrier that forces burrowing pests to steer clear of the area. Gail noticed Cynoglossum hispidum (Hound's tongue) nodding in the grass. The fruit stalks loop sharply downwards, making the furry, prickly clusters of nutlets hang beneath the stems like tiny, textured baskets. These nutlets are covered in stiff, hooked spines that function like natural velcro—perfectly engineered to hitchhike onto passing wildlife or botanists. These rough-leaved perennial herbs belong to the Boraginaceae family.

Eucomis autumnalis

Cynoglossum hispidum

Scattered through the grassland were the drying, three-lobed fruit capsules of Eriospermum mackenii (Yellow fluffy-seed). Known locally in Afrikaans as Geel Kapokblommetjie, this geophyte belongs to the Eriospermaceae family. The genus name literally translates to "woolly seed," and it certainly lived up to it; the reddish-brown capsules had split wide open to burst out seeds entirely enveloped in an incredibly dense, fluffy coat of long, silky white hairs. Looking like miniature tufts of cotton wool bursting from the spent flower stalks, these specialized coats are a brilliant evolutionary trick, allowing the seeds to catch the grassland breeze and parachute away to new territory.

Eriospermum mackenii

Sharing the same breezy patch of veld, a lone Dierama igneum (Fiery wandflower) was looking very tired. Its graceful, wire-like stalk was weighed down by pale, faded blossoms whose once-fiery petals had washed out to a weary, soft pinkish-white. With its papery protective bracts already dried to a crisp, the fading flowers still proudly displayed their dark purple anthers. These elegant grassland perennials belong to the Iridaceae family.

Dierama igneum

A popular plant on a Thursday because of its soft yellow petals set against its deep burgundy throat filled with bright orange-yellow anthers, heavy with pollen, and crowned by five fuzzy, burgundy stigma lobes radiating right from the center, is Hibiscus trionum (Flower-of-an-hour). The leaves are deeply lobed. These annual herbs belong to the Malvaceae family. Representing the very same family, we also came across Pavonia columella (Pink swampmallow). This upright multi stemmed shrub carried faint, pink blossoms with a prominent central staminal tube, mirroring the family traits of the Hibiscus we had just admired.

Hibiscus trionum

Pavonia columella

Lastly, in the vegetation along the small stream was a Dais cotinifolia (Pompon tree). It was smothered in dense, spherical flower heads that looked like fluffy pink balls, providing a spectacular, colourful finale to our day. These showy trees belong to the Thymelaeaceae family.

Dais cotinifolia

The clouds had become thick and grey and spits of rain fell onto our faces. So our afternoon at Manilkara drew to a close, leaving us weary, and deeply content. From the sandpaper leaves of Pachycarpus to the unexpected leucistic Pigea enneasperma, the veld had once again proven that it is a constantly shifting canvas. We hastily walked back to the Jimny's, grateful for a day spent in good company among some of Pondoland’s finest botanical treasures. We huddle together under the direction of Gail for our group photo. All present and accounted for - Until the next ramble!

Pondoland C.R.E.W.
Hilary Henderson, Alf Hayter, Uschi Teicher, Maggie Abbott, Anne Skelton,
Tracy Taylor, Gail Bowers-Winter
Photo credit Gail

Fungus or Popcorn?

Leucocelis haemorrhoidalis

Seeking the Shade of the Fish Eagle Trail

 Mense, dit was warm! We met at Maggie’s for our tea. Before setting off we admired the Calodendrum capense (Cape chestnut) in Maggie’s garden. It was covered in dramatic, utterly beautiful flowers with incredible detail. This striking indigenous specimen belongs to the Rutaceae family.

Calodendrum capense

We had decided to walk the top end of the Fish Eagle trail and head down to the falls in search of much-needed shade. We had not even made it into the reserve before we spotted Dianthus zeyheri (Common pink). The feathery, blush-pink flowers swayed gently in the wind, each showing off a remarkably long, narrow, and cylindrical calyx tube. This unique wildflower belongs to the Caryophyllaceae family. In local traditional practices, it is used to enhance intuitive focus, which was something we all could have used out in that intense heat.

Dianthus zeyheri

We followed the service road a short distance and then turned down towards the stream that flows from the farm dam. Resting directly on a massive Msikaba sandstone boulder, we observed the trailing growth of Rhipsalis baccifera (Mistletoe cactus). The round, reddish-purple fingers were full of pale-cream flowers and unopened yellowish-green buds. This unique cactus is a member of the Cactaceae family. It holds a distinct geographic crown as the only cactus species that occurs naturally outside the Americas, and one theory is that birds carried it across the oceans. Hearing the water gurgling over the rocks was so enticing.

Rhipsalis baccifera

On the opposite bank, we noticed a dense stand of Leucadendron spissifolium subsp. natalense (Natal Spear-leaf Conebush). This architectural, fire-adapted shrub belongs to the Proteaceae family. We crossed the stream, fighting the urge to plunge into the cool water. It was a female bush. The plant’s top leaves shift from green to cream-ivory, an evolutionary trick that turns the upper crown into a single massive “flower” and creates a highly visible beacon for native pollinators while the true flowers remain hidden inside the central dome. What is also quite amazing is that you also find Leucadendron spissifolium subsp. oribinum (Oribi Spear-leaf Conebush) in the reserve. Although these two subspecies grow alongside one another along the sandstone ridges and share the exact same insect pollinators, they do not hybridise. A quick glance at the foliage tells you exactly which one you are looking at: Leucadendron spissifolium subsp. natalense possesses straight, neat, and spear-shaped (oblanceolate) leaves, while Leucadendron spissifolium subsp. oribinum develops leaves that curve strongly to one side, looking like distinct little green crescent moons.

Leucadendron spissifolium subsp. natalense

The veld had not been burnt in this section and the grass was thick. Alf pointed to a small green plant which turned out to be the spathe of a Commelina species with two little green developing fruit capsules. This delicate herb belongs to the Commelinaceae family. Gail spotted a leucistic Athrixia phylicoides (Bushman’s tea). While the flowers typically display bright mauve petals surrounding a yellow centre, this rare leucistic mutation leaves the ray petals completely white. This aromatic shrub belongs to the Asteraceae family. Traditionally, the leaves are brewed into a popular herbal tea or chewed to relieve sore throats, and the woody stems are bundled together to create sturdy outdoor brooms.

Developing capsules of Commelina species

leucistic Athrixia phylicoides

Genus Alaena

On top of a sloping boulder tucked into the shade were some bright Freesia laxa subsp. laxa (Rooipypie). The small, elegant, flat, trumpet-shaped flowers arranged in a horizontal line along a fine spike in scarlet red stood out against the green backdrop. This dainty geophyte belongs to the Iridaceae family. Although they are quite common here they are spectacular. Then something we see in most gardens but seldom in Umtamvuna is the large, bright white flowers of Dietes grandiflora, with their bright yellow nectar guides and violet central segments. This striking perennial belongs to the Iridaceae family, and seeing it out in the wild was a rare treat.

Freesia laxa subsp. laxa

Dietes grandiflora

Then Gail pointed to the shiny mauve leaves of a young Bersama lucens (Glossy white-ash). The glossy, plum-coloured new foliage glowed amongst the dull grass. This unique tree is a member of the Melianthaceae family. There were quite a few of them along the trail and sitting quietly on the leaf of one was a large Praying Mantis. To the side of the trail was a vibrant pink Pigea enneasperma (Spade flower). The species name enneasperma translates from Greek to “nine-seeded,” referencing its dry, three-sided capsule fruits. It is a member of the Violaceae family. This hardy herb has a vast global footprint, tracking natively across tropical and southern Africa, Madagascar, tropical Asia, and Australia. Beyond its wild ecology, the plant is highly sought after in traditional medicine for its anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial properties. Modern biochemical researchers actively study the plant today due to its rare specialised circular proteins found within the Violaceae family that offer promising avenues for advanced therapeutic medicine.

Bersama lucens

Praying Mantis on Bersama lucens

Pigea enneasperma

As we followed the winding trail into the forest, ducking down under a fallen Dalbergia multijuga (Hairy flat-bean), we noticed Rhoicissus tridentata (Bushman’s grape) again this week. However, unlike the ones we had seen in the previous weeks, the ones growing on the side of the trail as we entered the forest were a soft, muted green. This sprawling climber belongs to the Vitaceae family.

Dalbergia multijuga

Rhoicissus tridentata

Further along the trail, a Dais cotinifolia (Pompom tree) was starting to flower. The clusters of long, slender pink tubes split at the tips into five star-shaped lobes with tiny, bright yellow anthers catching the light. The delicate pink flowerheads stood out against the darker forest margin. Its exceptionally tough, fibrous inner bark is the inspiration for the common Afrikaans name Kannabast, as that was stripped by early settlers and indigenous groups to twist into high-quality, ultra-strong handmade rope, string, and thread. This showy tree belongs to the Thymelaeaceae family.

Dais cotinifolia

Growing in a gritty crack on the rocks, we spotted Albuca bracteata (Pregnant Onion). This unique, bulbous perennial belongs to the Asparagaceae family. It gets its amusing common name from its distinct reproductive habit: the smooth green bulb sits entirely exposed above the ground, developing dozens of tiny, bumpy daughter bulblets directly underneath its translucent, papery outer layers. However, its harmless appearance is highly deceptive: the sap can severely burn bare skin. Packed with defensive chemicals and microscopic, needle-sharp crystals, the clear juice causes a painful burn—making it a specimen best admired from a safe distance.

Albuca bracteata

We were walking along the cliff edge, much to the dismay of Anne and Hilary. Growing from the forest floor below is an ancient, magnificent Podocarpus latifolius (Real yellowwood). Because it holds such a timeless, permanent presence, you simply cannot pass by without stopping to admire its resilience and grace. This regal conifer belongs to the Podocarpaceae family. Standing high on the cliff top, its canopy was right at eye level, giving us an incredible up-close look at its stiff, strap-shaped, glossy green leaves. Nestled among the rigid foliage were clusters of round, unripe grey-green seeds sitting tightly on short, thickened receptacles.

Podocarpus latifolius

Sawfly larvae with parasitic mite

Further along the cliff edge, sat a Grewia lasiocarpa (Forest Raisin). This fast-growing indigenous shrub belongs to the Malvaceae family. Unlike other members of its genus, it stands out immediately due to its enormous, almost circular leaves that feel rough and sandpapery on top but are covered in a dense, velvety layer of soft hairs underneath. It had one large, star-shaped, pale pink flower adorned with a bright cluster of golden central stamens. The excitement grew as we approached the bend where a Commiphora harveyi (Copper-stemmed Corkwood) stands. This charismatic tree belongs to the Burseraceae family. Even before we reached it, the air carried a distinct citrus scent. As a true corkwood, its crushed leaves and specialized inner bark produce a highly aromatic, resinous oil packed with fragrant terpenes that drift noticeably on the breeze. Standing right beside the trail, its impressive trunk is impossible to miss, wrapped in a silky, metallic copper bark that peels away in large, papery flakes to expose a striking green-bronze underbark underneath.

Grewia lasiocarpa

Commiphora harveyi

We were into the top of the forest and a Mystroxylon aethiopicum (Kooboo-berry) caught my eye. This attractive evergreen tree belongs to the Celastraceae family. Tucked tightly into the axils of its large, alternate, ovate leaves are dense clusters of small, greenish-yellow flowers. Its scientific name holds a lovely piece of history, combining the Greek words mystron (spoon) and xylon (wood) in reference to how early wilderness travelers utilized its tough timber to carve functional wooden spoons, while aethiopicum is a classic botanical descriptor that simply references its native African origins.

Mystroxylon aethiopicum

At this point, we wandered off the trail to the base of a large tree growing on the edge of a small krantz. We could not confirm what it was, so it remains a mystery. Its massive root system was an absolute marvel; unable to penetrate the shallow sandstone, a network of thick surface roots snaked across the forest floor in every direction, twisting and interlocking like ancient wooden cables to anchor the trunk to the rocky edge. Maytenus cordata (Water Silky-bark) is common in this forest and a number of them grew close by. This endemic tree belongs to the Celastraceae family. Its glossy, dark green leaves are immediately recognizable by their heart-shaped (cordate) bases that sit tightly against the twigs. Pale green flowers sprout from the leaf axils. If you gently break one of the leathery leaf blades, it reveals a fascinating trait—tiny, elastic, silvery threads of latex stretch between the severed halves like a delicate spider’s web.

Maytenus cordata

Stepping off the trail had certainly paid off. While we were closely examining the Maytenus cordata, I had noticed the developing fruit capsules of Cassipourea malosana (Onionwood). This glossy-leaved tree belongs to the Rhizophoraceae family—an interesting group, as it’s the very same family that contains coastal mangroves, yet this species thrives beautifully right here in our scarp forest undergrowth. Nestled along the smooth twigs, its small capsules were found still young and green, just beginning to swell. It was right around this moment that Anne called us over to look at something completely unexpected poking through the damp leaf litter. It was an Aseroe rubra (commonly known as the Anemone Stinkhorn or Starfish Fungus). This bizarre, alien-looking organism belongs to the Phallaceae family. The real kicker? This strange organism is not indigenous to South Africa. It has spread to South Africa over the last century, likely arriving via imported timber or mulch. Luckily, it has a benign effect on the local environment.

Cassipourea malosana

Aseroe rubra

A large tree had fallen over, and growing along the decaying trunk were massive, woody Ganoderma brackets. These wood-decaying fungi belong to the Ganodermataceae family. Ganoderma species are masters of white rot; they secrete specialized enzymes that break down lignin and cellulose—the rigid polymers that give a tree trunk its strength. Once a tree has fallen, they quickly move in to decompose the timber and return the nutrients to the soil.

Ganoderma bracket 

Admiring these, we noticed the leaves of Drypetes gerrardii (Forest Ironplum). We have seen this tree so many times but never actually noticed such a large one! This impressive specimen belongs to the Putranjivaceae family, and seeing it reach such grand proportions right here in the deep shade was a wonderful reminder of how ancient and undisturbed this scarp forest truly is. On the other side of the fallen tree was a Drypetes arguta (Water Ironplum). Also a member of the Putranjivaceae family, this small tree provided a stark and fascinating contrast to the giant ironwood next to it. Its alternate, glossy leaves were sharply defined by their distinctly serrated, gland-tipped margins. Seeing the two Drypetes species together highlighted the diversity found in the scarp forest.

Drypetes gerrardii 

Drypetes arguta

We found ourselves at the top of the waterfall on the Fish Eagle trail. The rocky edge was dry despite all the recent rain, and growing right on the brink was Psilotum nudum. This fascinating, primitive organism belongs to the Psilotaceae family. Lacking true roots or leaves, it is a living relic of evolutionary history, instantly recognizable by its distinct, bright green, skeleton-like branches that fork repeatedly into pairs. Dotted along these ribbed stems were its tiny, yellow, globe-shaped spore capsules (synangia). Spotting this ancient survivor clinging to the dry sandstone was wonderful.

Psilotum nudum

We turned around and started to make our way back to the trail. That’s when I spotted a Bradypodion melanocephalum (Black-headed Dwarf Chameleon). This little reptile belongs to the Chamaeleonidae family. It was perched quietly trying not to be noticed and seeing it was undeniably the highlight of the day. Umtamvuna’s ecotones—where the dense scarp forest gives way to the open veld—are a vital stronghold for these endemic, threatened creatures.

Bradypodion melanocephalum

The next tree we had a look at was Acalypha glabrata (Forest False-nettle). This impressive woody specimen belongs to the Euphorbiaceae family. Finding it here is quite amazing, as most of the Acalypha species we normally see at this time of year are small, fire-adapted grassland perennials not much more than 50cm tall. Seeing this genus taking the form of a proper, leafy understorey tree shows us how scarp forest conditions allow these plant lineages to diversify. We reached the trail and walked down to the bottom of the waterfall where we sat and ate our lunch. Uschi and I walked over to the Gymnosporia harveyana (Black Forest Spikes-thorn), remembering how when we had first noticed it was with Sarel and how the three of us had identified it. Looking closely at its long, slender, straight spines—which can reach up to an impressive 70 mm in length—brought it all back, as examining those formidable spikes was exactly what had helped us secure the identification that day. This member of the Celastraceae family loves these damp, shaded positions right by water, making it a perfect companion for our lunch break.

Acalypha glabrata

Down to the falls for lunch

Gymnosporia harveyana

Gymnosporia harveyana

Alf, Anne and Hilary were heading back up the trail to catch up with Maggie. Gail, Uschi and I wanted to walk a little further along the trail. A little further is never quite what happens with Gail and I and a right turn into the forest took us into part of the forest we had never explored. With the sandstone cliff on our left, we happily walked along looking at Micrococca capensis (Common Bead-string). This delicate understorey specimen is another member of the Euphorbiaceae family. We were fortunate enough to see the distinctive, bead-like lobed capsules that give this species its common name.

Micrococca capensis

Common Horned Bark Spider
Caerostris sexcuspidata

When botanising, it is so easy to wander off course as you turn from one plant to the next. That is exactly how we stumbled upon a beautiful specimen of Asystasia varia (Variable Asystasia) nestled on the shaded forest floor. This delicate herb belongs to the Acanthaceae family, and if you think it looks a lot like Mackaya bella, you would be right—they are closely related. In fact, historical botanists actually grouped them together. Mackaya bella was first named and described in 1859 by the famous Irish botanist William Henry Harvey, but because of the extreme similarity in their floral structures, later 19th-century botanists officially moved it into the Asystasia genus as Asystasia bella. It was later separated back into its own unique genus, but seeing them near each other makes it easy to understand why early taxonomists saw such a striking family resemblance.

Asystasia varia

As we excitedly wandered through the forest, we were so amazed at the diversity. Right ahead of us stood a Diospyros natalensis (Acorn Jackal-berry), which is such an attractive tree with its small, alternate, rich green, glossy leaves. This member of the Ebenaceae family features foliage uniquely arranged in a single flat plane. The leaves caught the filtered scarp forest light beautifully and perfectly encapsulated the rich variety of these woods. Just a few steps further, our eyes were drawn to an evergreen shrub that perfectly illustrated this long-lived forest stability: a Rawsonia lucida (Forest-peach). This member of the Achariaceae family features alternate, leathery oblong leaves aggressively defined by deeply serrated, spine-toothed margins. What made this specific specimen so fascinating to look at was the pale, ghostly crust of epiphyllous lichens coating the surface of its older foliage. Because these slow-growing trees favor the deeply shaded, humid interior of the scarp forest, their tough leaves persist for years, transforming each leaf into a tiny, permanent landscape for specialized primitive organisms to colonize.

Diospyros natalensis

Rawsonia lucida

Pushing past the Rawsonia, to the edge where it dropped down to the Umtamvuna River, a troop of Chacma baboons (Papio ursinus) spotted us and immediately began barking warnings. Below us, branches swayed and snapped as the troop moved away. The view was stunning, and we took in each moment. Our eyes caught sight of a Carissa bispinosa (Forest num-num). This hardy shrub belongs to the Apocynaceae family and contains a characteristically milky sap, featuring remarkably broad, large, ovate leaves in the deep forest shade. It is heavily armed with vicious, rigid, Y-shaped spines that fork repeatedly down its stems, providing a formidable defense. It begs the question: are these blooms truly jasmine-scented, or is jasmine actually Carissa-scented?

The stunning view we were rewarded with

Carissa bispinosa

Gail and Uschi

It was at this point that we were abruptly interrupted by the trilling noise of a phone. The sudden electronic ring instantly shattered the peace, pulling us right out of our botany lull. It was time to head back. Alf, Anne, Hilary, and Maggie would meet us back at Maggie’s house. Gail took the lead, coming across some spent Dombeya flowers lying on the forest floor. Uschi would later confirm that the flowers belonged to Dombeya tiliacea (Forest Dombeya). This genus belongs to the Malvaceae family, and features beautifully dark, heart-shaped leaves that persist long after its fragrant white summer blooms have fallen away.

Dombeya flowers lying on the forest floor

Uschi's reference

Our little detour had turned a great day into an extraordinary adventure. This is exactly how we do botany—we learn as we go along, with our boots on the ground, touching, smelling, and sometimes tasting. Every step through the Umtamvuna forest turns textbook descriptions into tangible discoveries, reminding us that the best way to understand these rare ecosystems is to immerse ourselves completely within them.

Someone had been hard at work