Pondoland C.R.E.W. Blog: Beacon Hill

We gathered at Beacon Hill with plans to head toward Cascades, layered against the cold of a biting August wind. But as any seasoned field amateur botanist knows, by midday those layers are peeled off and either left in the car or stuffed into backpacks. And of course, by late afternoon the sky turned a brooding grey, spitting droplets at our heads—because none of us had thought to pack rain jackets or umbrellas.

Still, the visibility was glorious. Weeks of fires had cleared the landscape, revealing sweeping swathes of open grassland bursting into flower—an invitation to botanise. Just two weeks ago, we had scanned this very area in the hope of finding Drimia depressa in flower. Instead, we’d found numerous Drimia echinostachya, a vulnerable species with tall, bristling flower spikes pushing confidently through the scorched earth.

Then a cry of delight from Tracy—she had found it! Drimia depressa, still in bud but clearly awakening. Long, elegant stalks rose from the bulbs in dramatic clusters. It was a breathtaking sight.

Drimia depressa
HYACINTHACEAE

At the same time, Anemone afra, the aptly named “Windflower,” had begun to bloom—its appearance so perfectly timed with the turn of the season that we laughed: Hello, August.

Anemone afra
Synonyms: Anemone caffra
RANUNCULACEAE
Windflower
South African endemic

Watsonia mtamvunae
IRIDACEAE
Vulnerable D2
South African endemic

With the grasslands singing in colour after fire and rain, we quickly dropped our plans for Cascades and chose to stay. The earth was rejoicing in wildflowers.

Yet even joy has its shadows. We watched, frustrated, as three dogs charged through the forest of Western Heights— hunting dogs, left unchecked in an area plagued by snares, poachers, and unregulated cattle. It’s a bitter reminder of the ongoing conservation challenges we face.

From the office, we meandered into the veld and were soon rewarded with two exquisite Disa baurii in flower. Lower down the hillside—normally thick with bracken and tall veld grass—we discovered treasures in the marshlands: Senecio coronatus, Merwilla plumbea, and Ledebouria cooperi—each catching the light in its own way.

Disa baurii
ORCHIDACEAE

Senecio coronatus
ASTERACEAE
Woolly Grassland Senecio

Merwilla plumbea
HYACINTHACEAE
Near Threatened A2bd

Ledebouria cooperi
HYACINTHACEAE

Aristea sp.

All day, Gerbera ambigua called for attention. Some bloomed in carnival hues of pink and white, others stood ghostlike—pure white, stripped of any colour.

Gerbera ambigua
ASTERACEAE

Down by the stream, Podalyria burchellii was in full flower. We ran soft fingers over the velvet pods and admired the contrast of their silver fuzz against purple flowers. But it was Erythrina lysistemon that truly stole the show. The vivid scarlet of its blooms lit up the grassland—more magnificent, even, than Alberta magna, the “Magnificent Flame.”

If this were a fairy tale, we might ask:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

And the mirror would surely reply:

“Erythrina lysistemon, is queen of the veld.”

Podalyria burchellii
FABACEAE
Hairy Blossom-pea
South African endemic

Erythrina lysistemon
FABACEAE
Sacred Coral Tree

Alberta magna
RUBIACEAE
Near Threatened B2ab(ii,iii,v)
South African endemic

High in the thick grass, a solitary clump of Aloe maculata was flowering. It took a determined trek to photograph its striking display—and in doing so, we startled a reedbuck resting nearby.

Hiliary standing in wathes of dry grass.

Aloe maculata
ASPHODELACEAE

We paused for lunch by the stream. Afterwards, we retraced a route from a recent Thursday excursion, when Anne, Hilliary and Uschi had reported seeing Brunia trigyna in bud. We were hoping for flowers.

On the way, Rothmannia globosa greeted us with richly scented blossoms. And then—Brunia trigyna, dazzling white and heavily perfumed. The baboons had discovered it first, of course, snapping branches in their playful mischief. We could see their work across the grassland: torn leaves, broken stems, and half-chewed Watsonia corms strewn about. They had played havoc with the Watsonia's.

Gail, Anne, Tracy, Uschi and Hiliary standing amongst the Brunia trigyna.

Brunia trigyna
BRUNIACEAE
Pondo Ghost-bush
Critically Endangered B1ab(v)+2ab(v); C2a(i); D
South African endemic

Rothmannia globosa
RUBIACEAE
September Bells

From there, the girls led us toward the dramatic “wall” of Utricularia sandersonii in flower. Reaching it meant scrambling down steep, slippery rocks into a gully usually inaccessible during the wet season.

Ushi, Anne, Tracy and Gail heading over the rocks exploring the gully.

Hiliary gaurding our bags and enjoying the tranquility of the water tumbling over the rocks.

Utricularia sandersonii
LENTIBULARIACEAE
Bladderwort
South African endemic

A towering Dalbergia armata, bristling with long hooked spines, blocked our path.

“Ouch!” Uschi cried—this is not a plant you ever want to fall into; one could be skewered like a sosatie.

Dalbergia armata
FABACEAE
Thorny Rope

The pain was quickly forgotten when Uschi spotted something remarkable: Rhoicissus sp. nov—a new species currently under study by Richard Boon. This was our third encounter with it: the first at Hazel Ridge, where Richard had taken us to see it; the second when Gail discovered it on the Mpunzi Trail while searching for Erythrococca sp. nov. Unmistakably different from any known Rhoicissus species, it may one day carry a name of its own.

The habatat where we found Rhoicissus sp. nov to be growing.

Rhoicissus sp. nov
VITACEAE

Carissa bispinosa
APOCYNACEAE

We made our way back up the hill when the wind shifted, carrying with it a dreadful stench—the decomposing body of a white dog, shot and left to rot in the reserve. It was a sobering end to an otherwise joyful day. Perhaps what we all need is a garland of Tricalysia capensis, Rothmannia globosa, and Brunia trigyna wrapped around our hats, releasing their beautiful scents into the air as we wander the wild places we love.