Garden gluttons

Although butterflies are very beautiful, there is no doubt that their offspring are an absolute curse - particularly the little  black and grey hairy caterpillars currently munching their way through my flowerbeds. Over the last week or so, the parrot plant has gone from being a magnificent sprawling mass just bursting into  a mass display of flowers to a few bare straggling twigs as these little monsters eat 24 hours a day. My mother had a similar plant and it was consumed in its entirety, never to be seen again.

 Imagine my dismay when I went outside this afternoon to water my pride and joy, the calendulas, which were only yesterday a mass display of broad green leaves and joyful yellow and orange flowers, completely hiding the wall behind them. Only a few stokkies remain and the ground underneath is littered with caterpillar droppings. They are recycling this plant within hours.

Unfortunately there seems to be no solution, as I am totally opposed to poisons, and flicking them off with my finger and stamping on them is making no inroads into their numbers.

Perhaps I should just buy silk flowers and place them strategically in the shrubbery.

A small break from the computer

There's been little inspiration for writing lately, with the state of the world leaving me speechless (it's best) and work keeping me indoors for much of the time, but today I took the kids (hardly) for our favourite meal - sushi at Willoughby's at the V&A Waterfront. It was such a pleasure to be there - it was busy but not frantic, mainly tourists already - and there was an air of calm and conviviality. A little beneficial retail therapy (Nespresso and a mouse for the laptop!) and we reluctantly headed back to the south Peninsula where things have been somewhat riotous of late.

As always, the view of Table Mountain was spectacular, and a gentle drape of white tablecloth was cascading down the face, although Van Hunks was puffing away fiercely at the top of Devil's Peak! (Google it.) The photo was taken from a moving car on freeway - I was a passenger, but you never know - and I am always amazed at the quality of photos we can take on a tiny cellphone whille hurtling along at speed. Most of my scenery is taken through a car window and you didn't know that, did you?

Caught in the action.

Never underestimate your power to provide a positive outcome by expecting it. I went to three places yesterday, one in Claremont and two in Cape Town, and found parking right outside the door! Lucky, because it was a real scorcher yesterday - an unseasonal 34 degrees and much higher in the sun. This summer may be much hotter than we are used to - last year we recorded 42 degrees one day, unheard of in Cape Town. It was for this reason that I bought my little car - it had airconditioning and I've not had a car with that for many years. Not since the BMtroubleyou finally gave up the ghost. The only slight problem is that it has little more than a lawnmower engine capacity and is not much use when going uphill or taking evading action in a situation involving taxis. But it is very small and can get through tiny gaps and fit into the most inconvenient parking places!
There was one little 'adventure' yesterday. When I left town, I decided to go out via Strand Street and the main railway station. As bad luck would have it, the traffic light outside the entrance was red and the sound of many voices raised in song came wafting out of the station building. It was only then that I noticed that the forecourt and pavements were parked full of police vans and that policemen were everywhere. The light turned green, I was two cars away and ready to pull out of there as fast as my little car would accelerate but no, the policemen stood in front of us to allow the chanting mob to toyi-toyi out of the station and across the road. It was a sight to behold - probably about 2000 young people closely packed, being assisted to go on their way by the police simply to get it over with. They were all smiling and cheerful, as though going out on a picnic, but these situations can change in a split second, so I have to admit to being less than excited to be there. However, it was an interesting experience that passed without incident and the authorities were there to help, not hinder.
But next time it will be the highway or no way!

Under a full moon

The end of a beautiful warm day in Kommetjie was spent on a bench down at the bay in front of my house, watching the golden sunlight glowing through the cresting waves, their tips flung back in a mane of spray by the offshore wind. A little egret in elegant breeding plumage stood on a rock, peering into the shallows in search of supper, while behind him the clamouring terns settled into their rocky roost.

 

 A chance conversation revealed that a pair of Cape cobras were seen romantically entwined on the rocks at the beginning of the path and that one later flared its hood at a passerby, so please be aware of their presence, particularly as it appears to be their breeding area. Please also do not attempt to harm them and keep dogs on a leash as they are required to be. We don't want a recurrence of last year's killing of a snake in the same area.
On the way home, it was a real treat to watch the full moon rising over the tree tops as the sun set behind me.

Ancient grooves

A highlight of last year's trip to Namaqualand with Mom and Dad was a visit to the site of glacial striations near Niewoudtville. I have long been interested in rocks and general geology and have been a collector of odd and interesting stones since childhood. I am also fascinated by fossils and long to go on a guided tour of the Karoo with an expert in this field. In particular, I like to see for myself the actual rocks and formations described in books, as they are quite difficult to imagine, and so the short walk into the veld held great expectations.
The scraped rock was level with the ground - hence its discovery! Imagine the excitement of seeing this unusual formation and finding that you are looking at ancient history of the earth, 300 million years ago! And then you stand on the place where the glacier actually met the rock! (Sorry about all the exclamations!)

Imagine how much more there is to discover on those vast plains of the Karoo, perhaps just below the surface? This is some of the oldest land on earth, with the Barberton area further north being the first oceanic crust to pop out, we are told, eventually becoming the earth's first continent.
There is so much out there to explore, discover and marvel at!

The long way round

Had an exhausting day yesterday. Nothing achieved, but a lot of travelling. I hate to admit that as I get older, long-distance driving makes me tired, as there is nothing I enjoy more than a road trip (I lie of course, there are plenty of things I enjoy more, but you know what I mean!). Due to unrest and a blockaded road nearby, we have had to take a massive detour just to travel 4km - an extra 25km (50km if you come back home again). An inconvenience which does nothing for good neighbourliness or the improvement of our soul journey but nonetheless good training for a better self.
The only good thing about the detour is that it takes us over Red Hill, which is one of the most scenic and beautiful drives on the Peninsula, although over the last few years the potential for traffic disruption has mushroomed with an informal settlement totally inappropriate to the area. However, panoramic views across the Table Mountain chain and over False Bay, with the picturesque naval harbour of Simon's Town at your feet takes the edge off the extra time needed to get anywhere.
The purpose of the drive was to fetch a friend's huge 4x4 (embarrassingly large for someone who normally drives a half a loaf of bread) in Hout Bay and bring it home until he gets back to Cape Town. This entailed another beautiful scenic drive around Chapman's Peak, a delicious fish lunch at Fish on the Rocks, and then a slow, painfully slow, drive back along the same route, behind sightseeing tourists travelling so slowly I could barely get out of 2nd gear. Definitely no chance to test out the capabilities of the behemoth's very adequate engine!
The passengers in the taxi in front of me apparently had different ideas on what interested them, as the lady stared out of the window at the view, but the man had his head bent - either looking at his phone or one too many wines at lunch - and missed it completely. There seems to be a new trend in driving at 50km/h or less along the narrow roads around the Peninsula where just one car can hold up 20 others and cause overheating of the brain, not to mention the engine. The word 'roadhogs' springs to mind, and it is no wonder that road rage is so prevalent here. The roads cannot cope with the volume nor the incompetence.
After a three hour drive and over 100 km to get to and from a place I can see across the bay from my balcony, a nap was in order!

Poetry in motion

What an amazing sight! My flock of sacred ibis that wing their way overhead twice a day - sometimes hugging the mountain contours, sometimes the coastline and often low over the house so that I can hear the swishing of their wings - are gathering above me for the flight to roost in Hout Bay. They are high up, wheeling in two untidy knots, apparently undecided as to whether to fly in unison or as two separate flocks. They circle almost aimlessly,as if no bird wants to make the decision to be the tip of the V and carve a flight path through the air, making it easier for the following flock to take advantage of the slipstream.
The sun is low enough to shine on the underside of their white wings, tinging them a warm golden colour and making them stand out clearly against the pale blue sky. They soar and wheel as the wind carries them further into the distance, still undecided and now definitely two separate flocks of 20 to 30 birds.
And suddenly! Something clicks into gear and the leading bird in each flock turns its substantial beak towards Hout Bay, and every bird slips effortlessly and perfectly into a following V as if a choreographed corps de ballet. Such elegance. Poetry in motion.

A fog rolls in

Despite bright sunshine and a general temperature of 26 degrees today, here in Kommetjie we are subject to the cooling influence of the sea which is no more than a stone's throw away from my house (if you have an arm like a catapult, that is!). It's been nothing short of delightful to stroll along the walkway, daisies and fynbos to the left, sparkling sea to the right and the towering white lighthouse ahead. A thick fog is now shrouding the ships that pass the Cape of Good Hope in a neverending stream and foghorns boom hollowly from its midst.
I wonder if a collision has ever been avoided due to a foghorn? It is quite interesting that in this age of such advanced (relatively speaking) technology we still rely on the human ear and the crew on watch to navigate such conditions. Fog brings an eerie stillness and one can only imagine how frightening it would be to be in a small boat with a supertanker suddenly coming within sight a few metres away, not to say potentially fatal.
The sea is a force to be respected, as conditions can change dramatically within minutes, bring disaster or relief. Those who travel the high seas in small boats are a special breed, fearless and adventure-seeking. Their rewards must be huge for the risks they take. I have to admit to a lifelong yearning to sail the world in a good-sized yacht, but also a sense of relief that it is unlikely to happen!

Lawn or no lawn?

Summer is definitely here. The southeaster is pumping over the Peninsula, new leaves are being stripped from green growth and even the birds are sheltering in the bushes. The terns have arrived on the island from the paleoarctic for the summer and we can enjoy their wheeling and flocking low over the waves of the Inner and Outer Kom. The spray is whipping high off the crests of some good-sized swells coming into the bay, but this wind should flatten it in a few days or even hours.
Bad hair days will abound and hayfever will peak as pollen is spread far and wide.This morning I started watering from the wellpoint and will soon know how low the water table is after a rather dry winter. It's a bit of a toss-up to know whether to water with municipal water at great expense or well water at the cost of running a pump, also at great expense. I have a fairly waterwise garden but still large bits of lawn which every year I say I am going to dig up and turn into a shrubbery. Would be great for the birds! But backbreaking work. Nothing is ever easy, particularly in the garden, and as the years advance, I find I just don't have the strength to dig for hours and yank out long runners of tough grass. Of course, if I just let the grass die it would be so much easier.
Now there's a thought.

Golden days

Late afternoon
I gaze upon soft clouds tinged golden by day's last sun
And think on things.

The rasp of the hadedah
Bringing memories of warm winter days Under Milkwood
A time of carefree youth as children splash in the shallow waters of low tide
The lagoon glittering in day's last sun.

The cool breeze of early summer
Salt laden and the hoot of the train sweeping over the crossing
Past the station that's no more.

The warmth of the rocks on our backs
Up on the mountain behind our childhood home
Unchanged for eons.

The aroma of lamb wafting from the kitchen
Mother's domain and source of favourite foods
Some no more.

Birds chattering as they seek their roost
Day's dying rays glowing on innocent upturned faces
Watching the eternal horizon.

Golden days.

Free as a bird

The pin-tailed whydah is once again admiring itself in the window. He has been flying up to the window incessantly today, almost becoming a bit of a pest, can you believe it? The cats have been fascinated and it wouldn't take much effort for them to swipe it from the air and turn it into a gift for me, as they do with geckos, lizards, etc. The photo opportunities have been excellent, though, and here is a selection of some action shots taken by my son. It seems as though a lot of flying is done with folded wings and this would account for its swooping, bobbing flight pattern. How it didn't fall exhausted to the ground, I don't know. It is still at it while I write!

 

Container crisis

Hot on the heels of the missing sock is the missing lid. It is some weeks now that I have been wearing odd socks, completely unable to track down the offenders that have gone AWOL. You might think that it is simply a matter of buying a few new pairs, but somehow socks have that inbuilt 100th monkey gene that enables them to realise that they can also make an escape from an unwanted twin, and it wouldn't be long before I'd be down to odd socks again.
The lid of the container is another story. Either the container is there or the lid. One can understand a lid slipping unnoticed into the trash, along with the odd piece of cutlery, but a container? I blame myself, really, for treating the family (all long out of school) to snacks and lunches when they are out on the road. They should be left to forage for themselves, as none of that would come in an expensive container with clip-on lid. But He Who Can Fix Anything is the main culprit here. Carefully sliced and diced fruit, pieces of cake, the odd muffin and even leftover chicken should rather be kept at home and consumed by me, as he has no regard for the value of the container and seems to have no interest in locating same. He now gets a banana for the road, as it comes with its own packaging. Of course, he does forage for himself at the likes of KFC or MacDonald's, and the consequences of these ill-advised choices will be for him to bear. It would be better to have a pub lunch - even the beer has more nutrients. I suppose I should just stop feeding them.
Alternatively, I could stick a piece of fabric plaster on each container and write their names and phone numbers on them, like we did for our kids at school. I have no doubt they would never let them out of their sight rather than be embarrassed like that. In the meantime, there is not a container left in the cupboard, so snacks are out of the question for now.

Way back when

A little gentle rain with a return to winter has breathed new life into the garden. This is the rain of my childhood; soft, soaking and accompanied by a light breeze. I recall many walks in the winter school holidays from home in Clovelly to the soccer field in Fish Hoek in  rain that didn't bother us - or perhaps it was the destination that took our minds off it. This was where  all the talent was, whether it played soccer or not. In summer it was the lawns at the beach and winter the soccer club. Of course, it was only eye candy, as we were still a few years behind the girls who occupied their minds! But such are the teenage years and it was all good fun.
The soccer field was also the destination of the floats of the annual Mardi Gras that was  the biggest event in Fish Hoek for many years under the capable guidance of the inimitable Lynette Barling, with drum majorettes in blue and white silk and white boots always in perfect time and very easy on the eye, a Scottish marching band in their splendid kilts and of course the ching-ching of the tins as they were held out for coins to the crowds lining the streets (it was after all a charitable event) and the music which blared out from megaphones. At the field, the best float would be chosen and participants would relax and party as only  the Fish Hoek crowd could, in preparation for the Mardi Gras ball that night at the Civic Centre.
Those halcyon days are gone and can never be regained. The soccer field has long been the home of Fish Hoek High School and Mrs Barling's larger than life personality has never been replicated. But a little gentle rain can still jog the memory

Living outside the box

How sad that humanity has been partitioned into segments such as race, colour, creed, gender, sexual preference and even young and elderly. This partitioning has placed each segment in a box by which judgments are made by other boxes. Some boxes believe they are better than other boxes, while actually all boxes are the same - four sides, a bottom and a lid. It is the contents of the box that differ, and sometimes some of those contents climb out of the box and start their own box when they no longer wish to be associated with the old contents.
If you are no longer satisfied with the contents of the box you are in, climb out and start your own. But even better, don't start your own box. Live outside of a box and be open to all that is around you. Set off in different directions and travel the world without your box. Look for other contents living outside of their boxes and find out what made them leave. Join the adventure we came here for and find your freedom.
Think about it.

Passing ships

An endless line of ships and smaller vessels passes the Cape of Good Hope daily and there is seldom a time when there are none in sight between Cape Point and Cape Town. As I frequently look out to sea, I often am able to observe at least one going through the gap between the neighbour and the gum tree, a sight many of you will by now be familiar with! As the gap has been considerably obscured by bricks, mortar and assorted woodwork, the opportunity to take a photo has been reduced to probably less than a minute from first sighting. In this time, I have to grab the camera, adjust the settings, find the vessel, zoom in and take a series of pictures which usually require more adjustments to the settings, as I have yet to fathom (nice one) out how to settle on the optimum. I am told that the ideal camera for these long shots out to sea will cost about R20 000, so if anyone feels like it...
Here are a few shots, from a stand-up paddler in the Kom to a leviathan of the seas...

SUPing

Off to catch fish

Containers

Who knows?

Coal? Iron ore? 

Last light of day

Research?

No idea

Empty

Waiting for crayfish season

Emptier

Containers

Pleasure

Just cruisin'

Nice little bow wave

Must have sunk

Also a bit low in the water

Someone's furniture

Re-setting the compass

Heavy seas with ship coming in on left

Two ships passing and a bird

Not quite Red Sails in the Sunset

Early morning - breakfast in Cape Town?

Leviathan

Quiet evening bathed in sunshine

Sitting on my balcony, basking in the warmth of the sun as it sinks towards the horizon. The cloudy day has given way to a mild evening of clear skies as the birds criss cross the blue yonder, heading for their roosts on the other side of the bay. The wind has swung to southeast and puffy clouds cloak the mountains, but no doubt tomorrow will bring a fresher breeze as we head towards the windy month of November. Well, comparatively windy - when the southeaster can blow a gale for anything from 2 to 10 days and tempers flare, bad hair days are rife and we wonder why we live in Cape Town. Then as soon as the wind drops, we remember!
The birds are so busy there must be nestlings in the hedges and tree tops. Always a sure sign of newly hatched guinea fowl is the predatory hovering of the crows that prey on these hapless birds while their parents fly into the safety of the branches. The crows have wreaked havoc with the guinea fowl population over the last few years and the once abundant flocks of 50 or more are down to patches of 3 to 15.
A butcher bird sits silhouetted in the gum tree - he seems to favour this time of day for that perch, and as the sun sinks further, the tiny witogies, sparrows and sunbirds are darting into the shelter of the leafy undergrowth to get some rest before another busy day. They start at around 5am, chirruping outside my window, and I no longer need an alarm to be set as the neighbour has acquired a new young rooster who is in fine voice at that time!
Perhaps a few eggs will find their way over my fence!

Looking up

Although I spend an inordinate amount of time gazing out to sea, I find that often the most interesting things are to be found by looking up. It is easier to photograph mechanical birds than feathered, or earth's satellite at various times of the day and night. Lying under a tree and looking up at the blue sky through the branches and layers of shades of green is also very soothing for the soul. Here is a selection of silver birds and silvery moons for your enjoyment.