Beacon Hill

With the sun promising to scorch the earth, we chose shade over exposure. The African sun can be unforgiving and relentless, and no matter one’s age, a full day beneath it is taxing. With our three octogenarians among us, we set off gently along the stream where the Brunia trigyna grow and the beautifully contorted Syzygium cordatum lean and twist with age. What characters these trees become over time. Then again, perhaps we all do.

The group soon divided: some eager to negotiate the slippery slopes near the cascading falls, others content to remain above. I am not entirely sure which route was more precarious. The upper path is narrow and steep — one misplaced step and you could find yourself unexpectedly joining those navigating the rocks below. It was never going to be a long day.

The terrain is demanding, and venturing deeper into the forest to seek out Lydenburgia abbottii requires a steep climb back up — a challenge in the heat and one to approach with consideration. On this day, we chose not to venture down.

Out in the grassland, Crassula vaginata flowered profusely, tiny yellow umbrellas lifted towards the light. We had never seen such a generous flush. Then came the showstopper: Brunsvigia grandiflora our South African endemic and proudly so. This giant candelabra turns heads without effort — simply magnificent!

Along the path we noted Indigofera hilaris subsp. hilaris, Indigofra herrstrey var. herrstrey, as well as  Alectra sessiliflora . We found both Exochaenium natalense (small white flower) and Exochaenium grande (Butter yellow flower) growing side by side. Nearby we also found Melasma scabrum quietly holding its place in the grass.

Of the red-hot pokers, one near the office was Kniphofia parviflora, and further along we encountered the endemic Kniphofia laxiflora flowering below the path leading to the stream. Schefflera umbellifera put on a magnificent show, its rounded white flower heads standing out beautifully against the deep forest green. Along the path, Tinnea galpinii appeared in its unusual green-yellow form, flowering freely, while a maroon-flowered form grew a little further on. This remains the only locality where the green-yellow form has been recorded.

And so, in slow and measured steps, we made our way back up to the Beacon Hill office, saying our goodbyes until we meet again — heads full of plants and hearts grateful for shade, gently reminded that botanising is never entirely effortless.

Kniphofia parviflora
ASPHODELACEAE
South African endemic

Crassula vaginata subsp. vaginata
CRASSULACEAE

Alectra sessiliflora
OROBANCHACEAE

Indigofera herrstreyi var. herrstreyi
FABACEAE

Brunsvigia grandiflora
AMARYLLIDACEAE
South African endemic

Exochaenium grande
GENTIANACEAE

Exochaenium natalense
GENTIANACEAE

Pondoland CREW

Syzygium cordatum subsp. cordatum
MYRTACEAE

Kniphofia laxiflora
ASPHODELACEAE
South African endemic

Tephrosia macropoda var. macropoda
FABACEAE

Tinnea galpinii
LAMIACEAE

Alf climbing up a steep embankment from the cascades below.

Our dear Maggie and Dorothy walking along a precarious path into the forest.

Schefflera umbellifera

ARALIACEAE

Pondoland CREW
Gail Bowers-Winters, Anne Skelton, Alf Hayter, Maggie Abbott,
Tracy Taylor, Dorothy McInytre, Uschi Teicher and Hiliary Henderson

“Walk slowly enough, through grassland and forest alike, and the earth will reveal not only its flowers, but its quiet wisdom — reminding us that endurance, like beauty, belongs to every age.”

Cascades at Western Heights. 12 February 2026

With the previous week’s temperatures better suited to cooking in an air fryer than botanizing, our Pondoland CREW group longed for gentler conditions. Anne wisely suggested Cascades at Western Heights — a place where clean, falling water might cool both body and spirit. Costumes were packed, just in case. And as if that were not reason enough, Cascades offered the rare gift of both grassland and forest — two worlds meeting — promising a day rich in discovery for those willing to wander slowly and look closely.

We had not visited the area for some time, and with months of heavy rain behind us, uncertainty accompanied our anticipation. Yet, with two Jimnys and quiet confidence, we pressed forward. The grassy tracks were unkempt and puddled, and Anne’s Jimny powered through the shlooshy water-filled hollows with admirable determination — a moment Gail regretted not capturing.

The day opened with avian brilliance. A European Roller flashed its impossible blues against the morning sky, followed by Barn Swallows, their elegant forms stitching invisible threads between earth and air. A herd of cattle stood watchful in the distance — magnificent animals, though their presence within a protected reserve carried an uneasy reminder of the pressures faced by these fragile ecosystems. Nearby, a collapsed barbed-wire fence, now rusting into the earth, had been repurposed by swallows as lookout perches — nature adapting, as it always does.

After greetings, tea, and shared biscuits, we descended the hillside. Dorothy, ever generous in her knowledge, pointed out the subtle but diagnostic differences between Indigofera abbottii and Indigastrum fastigiatum, reminding us how easily assumption can mislead the untrained eye.

Soon we were immersed in colour. The grassland was alive with pink — a palette that would have delighted Rachel, Gail’s daughter. Polygala amatymbica and Polygala hottentotta lay scattered amongst Watsonia densiflora, while Argyrella canescens — still known on the Red List as Dissotis canescens — added its soft blush to the slopes. The delicate flowrs of Hybanthus enneaspermus, Tephrosia macropoda subsp. macropoda, and the carnivorous Drosera madagascariensis contributed their own subtle hues. Nearby, Hesperantha baurii and Zaluzianskya angustifolia completed the scene, together transforming the grassland into a living mosaic of pink.

Amongst rocks entwined with Smilax anceps, we found Kniphofia laxiflora, its presence a quiet indicator of intact grassland ecology. Other species revealed themselves in succession: Searsia pondoensis, Exochaenium natalense, Exochaenium grande, Pachycarpus grandiflora, Psoralea glabra, Buchnera dura, and Melasma scabrum.

At the waterfall, the landscape shifted. Here, water shaped everything — rock, soil, and life itself. Mermaid Tracy, radiant and entirely at home in the cool cascade, reminded us why we had come. The pool, however, was hers alone that day.

Along the damp embankments, Disa tripetaloides flowered quietly amongst ferns, nourished by the constant seepage of water. Nearby, tiny carnivorous Drosera madagascariensis thrived in saturated pockets, their glistening traps waiting patiently for unsuspecting prey.

Entering the forest was like crossing a threshold into another ecological realm. There, in delicate flower, was Liparis bowkeri, an orchid easily overlooked but unforgettable once seen.

The force of recent rains was written clearly in the landscape. Debris hung tangled high in branches, far above our heads — silent markers of water’s immense power.

Nearby, Plectranthus saccatus subsp. pondoensis flowered in soft mauve tones, while Clivia robusta held heavy seed heads — evidence of past flowering and future generations.

Near the rock pools, Cassinopsis tinifolia and Maytenus cordata were in flower. It was here that Tracy, balancing carefully on a boulder, followed the line of a creeper threading through the branches. Her persistence revealed Emplectanthus dalzellii — a rare and endemic climber. This was the day’s defining moment: the reward given only to those who observe closely and question what they see.

Along the stream, Hypoxis angustifolia lit the margins with small yellow flowers, while high on an inaccessible rock face, Streptocarpus formosus flowered beyond reach — a reminder that some beauty is meant simply to be witnessed, and not photographed unless one had a zoom lens.

Asparagus setaceus had set seed, its small green spheres turning black before falling — continuing a life cycle.

Further along, growing epiphytically on the trunk of a waterberry, was Cyrtorchis arcuata subsp. arcuata, a magnificent orchid perfectly adapted to life above the forest floor.

As we moved upstream, the signs of disturbance became impossible to ignore. The embankments were eroded, worn down by repeated cattle crossings. These grasslands, once pristine, now face ongoing pressure from grazing, development, and insufficient awareness of their ecological importance.

Grasslands are among the most threatened ecosystems on earth — and yet they are home to some of the richest plant diversity per square metre.

Later, as the sun lowered, the grasslands once again revealed their treasures. Aspalathus gerrardii, Argyrella canescens, Exochaenium grande, and the delicate Exochaenium natalense glowed in the softening light.

Nearby, Uschi and Dorothy were deep in study, examining a small aloe with their hand lenses. Their persistence confirmed it as Aloe linearifolia, growing precariously alongside a cattle path — its survival balanced between resilience and vulnerability.

As the day drew to a close, Cascades had given us more than species lists. It had reminded us of the intricate relationships between water, grassland, forest, and time. Of resilience and fragility. Of discovery and loss.

As the sun dipped lower and the day drew to a close, Cascades had given us more than a list of species. It had reminded us of the delicate balance between water, grassland, and forest, of resilience and fragility, and of the quiet rewards that come to those who look closely. Botanizing here is not simply about collecting names — it is about witnessing the life that thrives when we pause, observe, and appreciate. And as always, we left with hearts full, carrying the promise of return.

"Every plant we meet is a teacher; every flower a reminder that the smallest details hold the greatest wonders."

Emplectanthus dalzellii
APOCYNACEAE
Rare
South African endemic

Indigofera abbottii
FABACAE
South African endemic
Photo credit:  Dorothy

Uschi, taking a close look at the details of the plant.  Here's a true botanist.

Searsia pondoensis
ANACARDIACEAE
South African endemic
Photo credit:  Tracy

Kniphofia laxiflora
ASPHODELACEAE
South African endemic
Photo credit:  Tracy

Hesperantha baurii subsp. baurii
IRIDACEAE

Anne dissecting a flower Pachycarphus flower.
Open-flower surgery.

 

Pachycarpus grandiflorus subsp. grandiflorus
APOCYNACEAE
South African endemic
Photo credit:  Dorothy

Psoralea glabra
FABACEAE
Narrow-leaf Fountain-bush
Photo credit:  Dorothy

Tephrosia macropoda var. macropoda
FABACEAE

Disa tripetaloides
ORCHIDACEAE

Hypoxis angustifolia
HYPOXIDACEAE
Photo credit:  Tracy

Plectranthus saccatus  subsp. pondoensis

LAMIACEAE

South African endemic

Cassinopsis tinifolia
ICACINACEAE 

Liparis bowkeri
ORCHIDACEAE

Gail enjoying the cool shade beside the waterfall at lunchtime,
grateful for the quiet relief offered by water and forest.
Photo credit:  Tracy

Maytenus cordata
CELASTRACEAE

Oldenlandia tenella
RUBIACEAE
Photo credit:  Tracy

Our swimming pool.

Anne trying to get Uschi a fern leaf.

Phlegmariurus verticillatus
LYCOPODIACEAE

Alf carefully photographing the protea.

Protea roupelliae subsp. roupelliae
PROTEACEAE
Photo credit:  Alf

Satyrium trinerve
ORCHIDACEAE 

Photo credit:  Dorothy

Cyrtorchis arcuata subsp. arcuata
ORCHIDACEAE

Exochaenium grande
GENTIANACEAE

Dissotis canescens
MELASTOMATACEAE

Melasma scabrum
OROBANCHACEAE

Aloe linearifolia
ASPHODELACEAE
South African endemic

Tracy and Uschi looking at Aloe linearifolia.

Gail and Anne's Jimny's parked along side a derelict Parks Board "fence". 

Tracy telling the cows to please stay out of the reserve.

The cattle path.
Save Western Heights.

Pondoland CREW

Maggie Abbott, Uschi Tercher, Dorothy McInytre, Anne Skelton, 

Gail Bowers-Winters, Tracy Taylor, Alf Hayter and Hiliary Henderson.