Pondoland C.R.E.W. Blog: Chasing Spurges

We gathered at our usual spot for coffee, tea, and some homemade rusks—a typical warm, sunny winter’s day. This Thursday, however, was a little different. Gail was on a botanical quest. She had an assignment to locate, measure, and count a specific Erythrococca sp. nov.—a rather obscure genus of dioecious shrubs belonging to the spurge family.

A spectacular spectrum over the gorge

The firebreak had been burnt recently, but there was nothing to see yet—just black, scorched earth. Fires are imperative for a grassland; they act as a rapid reset button, vaporising the dead mass. By pumping rich nutrients back into the soil and allowing sunlight and warmth to reach new shoots and seeds, the flames stimulate vital growth and germination.

Newly burned fire break

Gail had previously spotted a critically endangered Euphorbia bupleurifolia (Cycad Spurge) here, so we spread out, hoping against hope to find it again. While on the hunt, Tracy suddenly called out. She had spotted a Stangeria eriopus (Imfingo). This vulnerable plant belongs to a monotypic genus, meaning it is the absolute only species of its kind anywhere on Earth. It is mind-blowing, a stark reminder of how incredibly fortunate we were to be standing right there looking at it. Then—as if by magic, Gail found it again. There it was: the Euphorbia. How absolutely amazing it was to see this extraordinary little plant. Our hearts just skipped a beat.

Euphorbia bupleurifolia

Stangeria eriopus

As we walked through the sea of long, thick, dry winter grass, it whispered softly. Anne pointed out a fiery coral Pelargonium luridum leaf tightly curled inward against the drying winter wind.

Pelargonium luridum leaf

Before they knew it, Gail and Tracy stood alone at the top of the stairs zigzagging down into the gorge. Step by step, they carefully started to make their way down. It was hot on the side of the gorge; winter had temporarily forgotten them. They stopped partway down in the shade, to admire the coarsely toothed, distinctly discolorous leaves of Gymnanthemum corymbosum (Mountain bitter-tea), its pale, fluffy seed heads bursting from their stiff brown cups. Further down they spotted Helichrysum pannosum, showing off its golden everlasting flower heads and densely felted, grey woolly leaves.

Gymnanthemum corymbosum

Helichrysum pannosum

Once in the forest it was cool, and birds sang from the canopy high above. The lack of rain was telling—the sandstone wall, usually wet, was bone dry, patiently waiting for rain so the plants and moss could spring back to life. Tracy admired the bamboo-like Olyra latifolia scrambling through the undergrowth. Although it looked perfectly in place, it is not indigenous, and most likely arrived long ago through historic human movement and had since become naturalised. Growing along the forest floor nearby, they encountered a Rhoicissus species that is still being worked on.

Olyra latifolia

Rhoicissus species

Dorothy chose to stay at the top and explore the grassland. She found Diospyros villosa (Hairy Star-apple) covered in bronze hairs, giving it a velvety appearance. Winter-flowering Crassula perfoliata var. heterotricha, the white of the petals was just beginning to show on the closed buds. The papery golden-brown Helichrysum herbaceum (Monkey-tail Everlasting) was still holding strong alongside Helichrysum adenocarpum subsp. adenocarpum (Fairy everlasting). The grassland was full of Ctenium concinnum, locally known as Twirly-Whirly Grass. What makes it so fascinating is that as the seed head matures, it curls backward into a dramatic, rigid corkscrew spiral, like a pig's tail.

Diospyros villosa
Photo credit Dorothy

Crassula perfoliata var. heterotricha
Photo credit Dorothy

Helichrysum herbaceum
Photo credit Dorothy

Helichrysum adenocarpum subsp. adenocarpum
Photo credit Dorothy

Ctenium concinnum
Photo credit Dorothy

Venturing further into the forest, Gail found the first Erythrococca sp. nov.—she posed for a photograph to indicate the size. Alf, Anne, Hilary, and Uschi could be heard getting closer. Being quiet is not a requirement of botany; in fact, chatting and laughter are imperative. Gail reached into her pack and retrieved a bright pink measuring tape. Alf, Anne and Tracy measured while Gail made notes. While taking measurements, Tracy pointed out a fascinating example of inosculation, where a woody climber had twisted so tightly around a host stem that their tissues were starting to fuse into one. All done, we made our way towards the river for lunch. Right along the path edge where a gap in the high canopy let in a sliver of light, we noted a Triumfetta pilosa. Its broad, lance-shaped leaves were striking, defined by deeply set, prominent veins and sharply saw-toothed margins.

Gail with her charge Erythrococca sp. nov

Anne measuring the diameter

Tracy and Anne measuring the height while
Alf supervised and Uschi looking on in the background

Inosculation on a Erythrococca sp. nov.

Triumfetta pilosa

Hilary was already at the river perched on top of a rock in the sun. She pointed out some prints left in the sand. While investigating the prints we spotted Crassocephalum crepidioides (Redflower ragleaf) with peach-red nodding capitula. It really is not at all spectacular. It is hard to believe that this modest weed is widely prized as a nutritious leafy green called ebolo, or that its sap is used traditionally to heal wounds and soothe ulcers—though you have to be careful, as it can be toxic if it isn't prepared correctly. Uschi had sat down next to the soft, herbaceous Christella dentata a resilient species of terrestrial fern in the family Thelypteridaceae. Tracy clambered over some rocks and returned with a "takkie" (a little specimen we carry back for closer inspection) that turned out to be Keetia gueinzii (Climbing Canthium)—a woody liana that roots in the dark forest floor and aggressively climbs its way up into the canopy to find the light.

Print left in the sand

Crassocephalum crepidioides

Christella dentata

Keetia gueinzii

As we climbed out of the river bed, Anne pointed out a Pseudosalacia streyi (Pondo rock lemon). A beautiful small tree with large, deep green, leathery leaves, and this particular specimen was showing off a few round, globose fruits. Seeing it in the wild is always a privilege; it is a highly localized rarity found only in a tiny 500-square-kilometer pocket of our coastline, with fewer than ten known wild groups.

Pseudosalacia streyi

Walking beneath the towering trees, you couldn’t help but feel completely at peace. We saw Ochna natalitia (Showy ochna) a highly ornamental deciduous shrub belonging to the Mickey Mouse bush family, Ochnaceae. Carissa bispinosa (Bosnoemnoem) was full of dainty peach flower buds quietly waiting to open. Buxus natalensis (Large-leaved box). This compact under-canopy shrub looked perfectly content in the deep shade, its shiny, dark green leaves catching what little light filtered down. Coming up the stairs out of the gorge was slow going. Tracy spotted another large Black mamba and was glad this time that it was a good distance away. It is special to see such large specimens. Once at the top we stopped for a breather.

Ochna natalitia

Carissa bispinosa

Buxus natalensis

Deciding to cut across the grass instead of returning on the trail, Hilary delighted in Muraltia lancifolia (Umahesaka-onsundu) clinging to the bank of the dry stream. It was a lovely find — low, woody tufts decorated with tiny pinkish-purple flowers tucked tightly against its spiky, lance-shaped leaves.

Muraltia lancifolia

It was impossible to ignore the showy Argyrella canescens (formerly Dissotis canescens, locally known as Imfeyenkala). The whole plant seemed to shout “look at me!” with its square reddish stems, velvety grey-tufted leaves, and striking magenta flowers featuring distinctive two-toned purple and yellow stamens.

Argyrella canescens

Nearby, a scrambling Helichrysum panduratum displayed its unique fiddle-shaped leaves with their snowy white-woolly undersides. In the same area we admired Hypoestes forskaolii (Ribbon bush), its flowers in delicate shades of pink and white — beautiful, yet a plant to treat with caution as it is highly toxic to livestock.

Helichrysum panduratum

Hypoestes forskaolii white and pink colour variation

Hypoestes forskaolii white and pink colour variation

At that point, Hilary spotted another large Black mamba, this one busy with nuptials and completely oblivious to our presence. We gave it a respectful distance. The bright red flowers of Alberta magna (Natal flame bush) stood out boldly in the verdant forest, and our last push up the hill took us past a Psoralea glabra (Narrow-leaf Fountain-bush) and Pelargonium luridum (Waving Pelargonium) in flower.

Alberta magna

Psoralea glabra

Pelargonium luridum

Our last push up the hill

All back together Uschi presented Dorothy with a “takkie” she had carried up from the forest. Without hesitation Dorothy identified it as Olea woodiana (Forest olive). Not too shabby. Another successful day in the field — full of rare finds, quiet wonders, and plenty of smiles. Whether we’re chasing obscure spurges or simply soaking up the beauty of this remarkable landscape, that’s what we do. After all, we are the Pondoland Crew.