The Beacon at Beacon Hill (Thursday 13 August 2020)

Our backs braced against the unrelenting wind, our feet tenuously anchored by gravity, we were happy to surrender to the elements and be swept along with the leaves, letting nature point the way we were to go.

Othonna natalensis blowing in the wind.

Tarchonanthus trilobus

As tradition would have it, we began with tea at Beacon Hill, happy to be joined again by Maggie. There was also a lot of banter about Dorothy’s aniseed rusks, dipped into our hot drinks and setting us up for the day.  But something was different about them, and there was much toing and froing about perhaps too much salt, or was it the aniseed? Discerning tastes all at odds. But it was reassuring that old friends could share in the chit chat, with no slights or hard feelings. 

Plotting our way from there, we decided to investigate the slopes beyond the beacon, hopefully to escape the full blast of the wind, our chief concern being that it might cause stumbles or falls. Still, at times, we hand to stop and anchor ourselves to the earth. Gone were our hairstyles, which were transformed into porcupine quills, and the soot from the burnt earth made us look like coal miners – white faces freckled with soot. The dirty faces also made you think of Van Gogh’s famous “Potato Eaters”. 

Vincent Van Gogh's "The Potato Eaters"

Charred Leonotis seed head.

At some stages, while we were prying closely at details, the ash stirred up by our feet clouded our eyes, forcing us to wait until our vision had cleared before carrying on. 

However, the burns are good, giving some plants a chance to flower. In the cleared earth were clusters of flowers, their faces all pointing in one direction – out of the wind.

Gerbera ambigua 

Gerbera natalensis

Senecio speciosus

Ursinia tenuiloba

Curiously, our path took us to the forest edge, where we meandered for a while, finding a species that we initially thought was an alien; but on closer visual and odiferous investigation, time will tell to see if we found something that is rare and critically endangered. Watch this space!

Alberta magna

Bulbophyllum scaberulum

Bulbophyllum scaberulum

Alf and Dorothy

Tracy taking a great inhale to see if the Wurmbea has a scent.

Wurmbea kraussii 

We made our way up the hill, now pitching ourselves against the elements that seemed intent on keeping us back.  It’s a great strength to have friends who are happy to keep on exploring, be there torrents of rain, relentless wind and brutal sun.  They endure and don’t complain.

Maggie, Tracy and Dorothy

Tracy

We nestled down in cavities among the rocks for lunch and sat among tiny flowers.  Excited, we turned our heads when Anne called out she had found “little people”, which were anchored on a stem and branching out like puppets screaming – Bonatea porrecta!

Bonatea porrecta

No social distancing with Bonatea porrecta

A happy Tracy taking a look at the little people.

Gazania krebsiana 

Haemanthus albiflos

Helichrysum's new leaves

Ledebouria revoluta

Rhipsalis baccifera in oasis.
 

Female cone of the Stangeria eriopus after a burn.

Tulbahia acutiloba

Asparagus species snaking out from its sheltered rock.

It was a blustery walk back to the vehicle, where we again all congregated, windblown but content.  Six more sleep with a chant of "Wind wind go away come back another day...".

Alf Hayter, Anne Skelton, Tracy Taylor, Maggie Abbott,
Gail Bowers-Winters and Dorothy Mcintyre.

Special thanks to all who contributed in making this blog possible (Kate and Graham Grieve).

“And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair”

― Khalil Gibran, The Prophet