Sensory delight!

My pride and joy, what Mother called the George lily, and which is more commonly known as the Scarborough lily, is currently bearing 51 blooms. This bulb likes to be crowded in a container and multiplies prolifically. I started off with about 10 bulbs, the original stock having been passed on to her some 60 years ago by her mother-in-law, Dad's mother (obviously). I don't know how long she had them before that.
To say that they are happy in their location is an understatement. They are in semi-shade as the bars of the railings shade them in summer and winter, and they receive the full brunt of the winter storms. This is of no consequence as they consist of a few strappy leaves, no longer than 20 centimetres. I give them a sprinkling of water every day for no particular reason other than they are among the other pot plants, yet it is pure unadulterated water from the heavens that they need to bloom. At this time of year, within a few days of a rain shower, buds will appear almost miraculously before my eyes, and I rush out a few times a day to see how many have appeared. This year has been its crowning glory and I hope it will continue into the future.
It's something Mother would have loved to see and I know her spirit is rejoicing.
But the best thing about this mass display is that, when I go out onto the balcony at night for a last look at the stars, I am assailed by the most incredible fragrance which pervades the air. I had no idea it even had a scent as it is not apparent during the day. No perfume could smell as sweet. It is wafting through the doors as I write this.
Another treat for the senses from this most rewarding of indigenous bulbs!

Lying on the lawn

Whenever the council workers arrive to trim the verges and the public spaces, they spend a considerable time lounging on the lawns under the trees along the roadside. It all looks very companionable and inviting, and so today, while waiting at the top of the driveway for the nursery delivery truck, I thought I would also lie on the lawn under the gum tree and see what the attraction was.
The attractions were quite considerable. I have always enjoyed lying on lawns rather than sitting in those uncomfortable garden chairs that proliferate in the suburbs. It's a way of connecting with Mother Earth - I go barefoot as often as possible - and seeing things from a smaller perspective. There are so many insects running about in the grass, carrying bits and pieces of sticks and grains of sand, and no doubt body parts of other decaying insects. The grass has interesting seeds in various configurations and they scrape off quite easily between fingernails - an opportunity to work on fine motor skills, which are fast disappearing with the constant tapping on keys and keyboards.
I could observe how many cars actually stop at the stop street - not many. I saw the security vehicle cruising by on his daily patrol - he waved at this strange woman lying on the grass under a tree, and must have decided I did not need apprehending.
The local dog owners had to take evasive action as they came past the hedge, expecting to bring Lassie round the other side to make a deposit that didn't get picked up. They pretended they weren't heading across the lawn, but having picked my spot carefully amid previous deposits, the game was up and another spot would have to be chosen. I got a great sense of satisfaction from this.
It was quite delightful lying in the shade, a gentle breeze blowing up from the direction of the lighthouse, where I could here the crashing of the waves - a heavy onshore swell sent up from down South today. I totally understood why the council workers indulged in the occupation so frequently.

Puppy class

Puppy training class No. 1 successfully completed. I am now fully trained in how to present and give treats in return for appropriate behaviour. I know when to look away and when to say: Good girl!
You would be surprised how tiring it is to learn all these new things, and when we sat down (can't remember why!), I was so busy listening to the teacher that I didn't notice that Cleo had her entire head in the belt pouch where all the chicken biltong was! So that was a week's worth in a gobble. No wonder she felt like a snooze after that.
On the way, I was concerned that she might bounce all over the car and so tied her lead to the headrest with enough length for her to lie on either the back or front seat. She sat chewing away quietly (always a bad sign, I have now learned) for the half-hour trip, and I naturally thought she was being terribly well-behaved and chewing on her toy. I should have been alerted by the odd crunching sounds, but didn't crane my neck as I had no desire to ride off the side of the mountain. When we reached our destination, I found it was my Spanish hand fan, souvenir of my nephew's Marbella wedding, that had been on the receiving end of those sharp little teeth. Oh well.
The best thing I learnt today was that she should be getting iced treats to sooth her sore little gums with all those nasty shark's teeth pushing their way through, and I have to say that since implementing this useful bit of information, she hasn't chewed on anybody today, and not even Monty's tail. Let's hope it continues.
I now have homework to do, so enough of this blogging for today...

Southern Star Party at Bonnievale

Where does the time go? Three weeks since the star party and I still haven't put pen to paper. To give those who have never attended such an event an idea of what it's about, here is the lowdown:

1. You must be able to stay up all night.
2. You must be able to get up early to see the planets rise above the horizon before 5am (helps if you achieve 1).
3. You must not turn on a light or light up a phone screen or even a candle (!) or a torch after sunset, unless it has a red cover. This red cover must be so thick that if you turn on the torch in daylight it will not show a red mark on your hand. About 8 layers of cellophane should do it.
4. Once you have the red light in place, do not expect to be able to read anything with it.
5. Memorise all the star charts pertaining to the areas of the sky you will be looking at, because of 4.
6. Do not wear high heels. You will be moving between telescopes on a lawn in the dark.
7. Don't push to the front of the queue to look through the eyepiece. The object will still be visible (although in  different parts of the sky) for at least 6 hours.
8. You can go to the back of the queue for another look.
9. A flask of coffee or your favourite tipple (can result in seeing double the number of stars) and a big chocolate will go a long way to adding comfort to your viewing.
10. You will be in the company of some seriously intelligent people. A closed mouth gathers no foot.
11. Be prepared to be amazed and awed by the vastness of what is out there.
12. Don't worry if you can't remember the names of any of the stars or constellations. Just enjoy the view.
13. Do try to identify the planets. There are only a few to remember and you are already standing on one of them.

The event was tremendously enjoyable, the company scintillating and stimulating, the weather at night absolute perfection. Ready to do it again!

Still setting up telescopes - about 10

Entrance to s/c accomm Oppikoppie

Just beautiful

Nightfall

Twilight. The sky turns from a deep orange glow on the far horizon in gradations of indigo and violet to the purple-grey umbra of the earth's shadow in the upper atmosphere. Loose strings of birds make the trip back to their roosts, while a small flock of night herons rises silently on snow-white wings from their daytime perch on the ancient milkwoods at the shore and pass their daytime cousins as they head for the feeding ground beyond the lighthouse.
The sissing of the waves wafts in on the evening drift of cool air as the change from day to night reverses the offshore breeze, with an occasional sharp crack as a perfect break traps the air and explodes in a splatter of spume. Night birds call from the rocks, an eerie, echoing song.
It's dark now. The pink glow has faded. One by one the stars twinkle into being - Sirius, the brightest star, followed by the familiar outline of Orion the Hunter, with Rigel and Betelgeuse appearing first, to the south, Canopus - and soon too many to count - ever-constant guides for travellers since time immemorial.
Night settles. All is quiet as the daytime creatures take to their burrows, nests and cosy corners. Humans retreat into their houses. Lights go out. The night belongs to the nocturnal.
My cats head out of the door.

Rejuvenating the garden

With mild autumn weather and the soil being bone dry after a long, hot summer, it's the ideal time to dig up the lawn (what a misnomer) to plant shrubs and hardy ground covers. We've never actually needed a lawn, as no one has played soccer or cricket in the garden, nor have we had garden parties - they take place on the bricks and even then are few and far between.
Indigenous is the way to go as far as possible, although some of the Australian aliens can be attractive and easy to grow and shouldn't be shunned purely for parentage. They are inclined to self-seed and pop up all over the place, so careful control should be exercised while enjoying their flowers and foliage. I've planted bauhinia and sutherlandia, geraniums and plectranthus. The central part of the lawn is to become a large bed of different varieties of agapanthus, both tall and miniature, pale to intense blue. Most of this will be a rearrangement of the existing garden, as the plants have multiplied over the years and need thinning anyway. The shade lovers, clivias and bromeliads, are now so abundant that I can double their existing coverage, which will take care of large portions of bare sand, which is all they have to grow in here next to the sea. It would be stretching it to call it soil.
Aloes also take up quite a few gaps and are very rewarding as they grow new plants all the time and make a spectacular show in winter when the rest of the garden is fifty shades of green.
Gardening is very therapeutic. You can solve the problems of the world while digging or watering, or let all the things that worry you play through your mind, and somehow it all seems totally insignificant as you take care of the simple things. And if you nurture your plants, feed and water them, encourage them to look their best and grow nicely into strong, healthy plants that will proliferate and reproduce themselves for future generations to admire and enjoy, it will give you the idea that perhaps this is how we should treat all living things, including our fellow man. Fancy that.

Walkies!

I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky, and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by. Still looking for the tall ship.
It's been a while since I took regular walks down to the lighthouse, as I let life pass by in mistaken conventionality, but I have broken with the tradition of always being in the kitchen at sundown and am taking Cleo for walks as the sun casts its last rays on the ocean and rocky shore. Such a sensible thing to do! She is walking very nicely in her harness and has been very sociable with all the dogs she has met along the way, but this evening a large French poodle barked playfully in her face and she is no longer sure she likes such tall dogs!
Puppy classes start on Sunday and I suspect they are more for the owner than the puppy. Let's see how quickly I learn! I really hope to cure her of chewing on my hands as I currently look like I've been through razor wire, and anyone who is on Warfarin had better give her a wide berth. I've been told to give her half her breakfast so she is eager for treats, but as a rescue doggie, there just is no such thing as never being ready for food! She literally vacuums up whatever she sees, and is particularly partial to mushroom compost and other vegetable matter, sampling nearly every plant in the garden and eagerly devouring the coprosma and milkwood berries with some startling results a little later in the day. I have read up on what's poisonous and hope she never finds the oleander in the far corner.

It was balmy and just too magnificent down at the rocks this evening and I took so many photos but will only post one here. Cleo sat perfectly still while I sat on the bench and seemed quite content to watch the sunset with me. I'm sure I'll have many years of devoted companionship from her.