Pondoland C.R.E.W. Blog: Beacon Hill to Uncle Nic's Gully

Beacon Hill to Uncle Nic’s Gully: A CREW Day Well Spent

We met at Beacon Hill with our CREW members on a hot, noisy morning. Emvuzelo staff were gathered for a meeting and, in true South African spirit, it was cheerful and full of laughter.

Gail was particularly fortunate when one of the rangers patrolling Red Desert returned her Canon camera lens cap — found just in time, moments before another was ordered and almost dispatched by courier. How heartening it is to have lost items returned in the veld of all places, rather than left behind to fade and go grey in the African sun.

With the heat building, a forest walk was clearly on order. We packed ourselves back into the vehicles and headed off to Uncle Nic’s Gully. This gully never disappoints and, even though we didn’t walk very far, it was packed with surprises.

This group is passionate about Thursdays — about being out in nature, observing everything that flowers, whether in the veld or on a tree. Veld and forest, flora and fauna — it’s all important. A beautiful marriage. A flower is no more important than a flower found high in a tree.

As we meandered towards the gully, the veld was scattered with Drosera natalensis, their tiny pink flowers a joy to gaze upon. We saw old flowers on Tridactyle bicaudata subsp. rupestris, and then found a fresh Satyrium trinervium, the only orchid flowering in the open veld that day. Eucomis autumnalis were both flowering and setting seed, while Alepidea peduncularis waved like little stars — their white flowers so fresh and clean they looked as though they had just emerged from an Omo wash.

Simon and Dorothy were, as always, in friendly dispute over Chionanthus foveolatus subsp. foveolatus versus Olea capensis subsp. macrocarpa. The key to this puzzle lies in the pockets in the vein axils — and no, we’re not talking clothing items. On a more serious note, to be absolutely certain, it all comes down to those pockets, as confirmed by Richard Boon. The species is now known as Noronhia foveolata subsp. foveolata — though, admittedly, not all of us have caught up with the name change.

We slowly made our way into the steep gully, where caution is essential. A misplaced step could leave one flat on one’s back among rocks far below. It’s tricky terrain and requires a good sense of humour — creepers are always noosing themselves around one’s neck, and just like us, forests have arms too, constantly trying to hold you back.

In the cool shade we found Pavetta bowkeri in flower and Maytenus cordata both flowering and fruiting. Along the wet, beautifully cool rocks were enormous clivias, and Streptocarpus porphyrostachys lined much of the gully. The red colouring behind its long strap-like leaves is striking. Seed capsules had formed, and further along we were lucky enough to find a few remaining flowers. Although we had missed their peak display, those few purple blooms were enough to leave a lasting impression.

Water dripped from mossy rocks where we found Liparis bowkeri. Uschi pointed out the difference between Liparis bowkeri and L. revoluta, which lies in the number of veins in the leaf. Plectranthus saccatus subsp. pondoensis flowered delicately nearby, and black berries were seen on Asparagus setaceus (often known horticulturally as “plumosus”). These forms are all Asparagus setaceus; the flatter-branched form has simply been selected for horticulture and is probably uncommon in the wild, as noted by Richard Boon.

The lower we traversed into the gully, the darker and cooler it became, and the more Begonia sutherlandii we encountered. Their softly hairy leaves and vivid orange flowers were a highlight — how fortunate we were to see them in such fine form. A section of dripping rock was especially thrilling, the sound so deep and resonant it felt as though we were walking past a sleeping dragon, the rock face alive and purring.

We saw old clivias of remarkable size, Hyperacanthus amoenus in flower and fruit, Memecylon bachmannii flowering, and Eugenia erythrophylla in bloom. A Clutia sp. nov. caught everyone’s attention — its leaves unbelievably soft and comforting to touch.

Heading back out into the scorching sun, we found a Brunsvigia grandiflora in bud, a few Watsonia pillansii, and a show-stopping display of Agapanthus campanulatus. These short, blue agapanthus growing between rocks are incredibly hardy and striking. Roella glomerata waved us goodbye.

It was a very special day, shared with people deeply passionate about their environment and endlessly curious about plants. Until we meet again next week.

— Pondoland CREW