Beach, bureaucracy, boats and a gaggle of geese

Today we are sweltering in the heat of a berg wind blowing out from the interior, and the sea is like a pond. I even had to water the pot plants again.

After Tai Chi, we went down to Fish Hoek beach, which was crowded with schoolchildren enjoying the last and best day of the school holidays. Some were even swimming, and twirly ice cream cones were the order of the day. It was good to get out of winter clothes for a change although I fear it won't last.

Next was a visit to the police station to arrange a police clearance certificate for a friend living in London who is applying to move to Australia. I thought the whole thing was going to be an insurmountable task, and was pleasantly surprised to find that everyone knew exactly what to do and it will be arranged by Wednesday. So things are still working despite what the media reports. The less we listen to bad news, the more likely we are to experience good things. It pays to expect a good result, it seems.

After that, it was a trip to visit a friend in Noordhoek who has a large flock of geese. Not for nothing are they considered the best watchdogs. The aggression of the ganders is quite something, and another friend wields a stick every time she goes there to ensure that she doesn't get pecked. They have been known to draw blood! I think they would make good eating, but I doubt whether that will ever happen as they have all got names and have formed little families, and of course the owners would no more kill a bird than I would. You just get these thoughts as you run through the muddy field pursued by angry ganders protecting their goslings!

There were no reports of sunken fishing boats over the weekend, so despite all the little vessels bobbing like corks on the mountainous seas, they appear to have been seaworthy and in the care of competent skippers. Let's hope they bring home some fish to make up for the uncomfortable ride. The rest of the fishing fleet set off this afternoon under ideal conditions, looking as though they were out on a pleasure cruise.

And so ends a perfect but busy day! Time to cook.

Earning my stripes

Today we put the engine and gearbox back in the Escort, ready for the last race of the season. Things are hotting up - joint first with one race to go! With luck, this will be the last time I have to be an appy motor mechanic - I'm hoping HWCFA will retire while he's on top and not become like Michael Schumacher.

We have got this procedure down to a fine art, and I think we have reached the stage where we could almost hire ourselves out - of course there's absolutely no chance of that. Everything went off without a hitch, and not a curse was uttered. A miracle! Never happened before. I'm told it was because I kept my mouth closed for a change, but actually it was my neat handiwork with the hydraulic crane. I really enjoy playing with that - it is definitely the most useful tool in the garage.

There are still a few things that need to be reconnected before the car is back on the track, but nothing that can't be handled. I had to laugh to myself when he said, "It's not a problem, I can fix anything!" He has no idea that that is his nom-de-plume for my blog and even less idea that I even tell stories about him! You had better not let on, because without a constant source of material to write about, this blog will be a thing of the past, and it was started so that I could share his idiosyncrasies!

A walk on the beach

Still no sign of the weather warming up or the heavy seas calming down. This must be the longest winter and coldest September I can remember. We used to tan at the beach in the September holidays when I was at school, so the seasons must have all shifted by a month or so.

We took the dogs down to Scarborough for a run on the beach at a little place where no-one else seems to go and we can let them off the leads for a change. Monty is a runner, meaning that once he goes, he never comes back, so we are always reluctant to let him off even when dogs are allowed to be off the leash. It must be the terrier in him. Susie always comes back when you call her, but I think that is out of fear of being left behind when we leave. She was a rescue dog and has all sorts of psychological problems despite living in the lap of luxury for the last 12 or so years. She must have had a very traumatic time with the previous owners.

There was a flock of oystercatchers on the beach, beaks to the wind, a total of eighteen. I have never seen so many gathered in one place. It is good to see that they are thriving along the coastline - beautiful birds. The beach is all sand at the moment, but sometimes it becomes a rocky shore, with smooth, small rocks and pebbles in a variety of colours, and we used to collect buckets full for the garden when they were exposed. Each bucket must have weighed 5 -7 kilograms when filled, and when you have to carry that up the mountain to get up to the road again, it sure makes the heart beat strongly! After collecting about 20 bucketloads, we decided that was enough, and the pile has lain on the bricks ever since, while we try to decide where exactly we are going to put our hard-earned haul. Things move slowly in this household and they have been there for at least three years already, so who knows how long it will be before we move them!

More wild weather as the days get longer

It's lucky that the sea off Kommetjie isn't rough every day, otherwise I would get even less done than I normally do. I would be sitting at the rocks watching the waves rolling in.

I went down there this afternoon to take pictures for references (I'm busy with a series of wave paintings) and in an effort to not miss a moment of thunderous power, I clicked away with the camera almost non-stop for twenty minutes or so. In the freezing wind, it didn't take long for my fingers to seize up - the camera was held in claw-like grip as I was unable to uncurl my frozen fingers. Like a fool, thinking it was Spring, I didn't take a jacket with pockets to keep my hands warm. I should have seen the signs when there were no surfers in sight and only two lonely dog-walkers the whole time I was there. The weather was ba-a-ad!

It didn't seem to bother the birds - they swooped and landed on the rocks in front of me without so much as a ruffled feather. Nature certainly knew what was going on when they were made!

The only real sign of Spring is that it is noticeably light in the mornings when I wake up and now, at 7pm, it is only just dusk. Somehow it doesn't seem to matter how bad the weather is if the sun is behind those clouds for a little bit longer every day!

Busy day doing very little

Such a busy day doing very little yesterday! Daniel the gardener turned up bright and early which meant that every half-hour I would have to go out and make sure he was doing what I had asked him to do. There were about 30 weeds in the lawn which he needed to pull out before mowing, and he took it into his head to take out all the winter grass as well, so I found him in the middle of a patch of lawn that now has more soil than grass. After getting his hands firmly on the mower's controls, I went back inside to start preparing some canvases for painting.

The easy part is painting a nice thick layer of white over an old painting that didn't work, so that you can start again without being distracted by the previous colours. Once I had done three, I had to watch paint dry, so headed off for coffee and to collect the post up the road. There I came across a friend who had been the victim of a mugging that night, the cowardly perpetrators being four young thugs from the local township with nothing better to do with their lives than steal other people's property and beat up the defenceless. The only good thing about the incident was that they didn't get the motorbike and a neighbour had let out four ridgebacks which chased off the cowards. One of the dogs sat with the victim and howled until help arrived. I think it is marvellous that the dog has such intelligence as to know that was the right thing to do - he is a credit to his breed. The young man was kicked about the head very badly and everyone is praying for a speedy and full recovery. Fortunately he has plenty of caring people to look after him.

The rest of the day proceeded as before, with half-hourly checks on the gardener, who eventually got the lawns in tip-top shape and the rest of the garden looking neat and tidy, if a little colourless, but then that is entirely my fault for not being able to grow anything that flowers!

In the evening, I went with other club members to support our Two Oceans Toastmasters Club participant in the Division Humorous Speech contest and was not surprised when he won. He now has to go to Jo'burg to participate in the national contest where I'm sure he will come out tops. The standard of speaking at our club is very high and visitors are always welcome.

Today is windy and wild out there, and I have to head for the mall to stock the fridge. It never ends.

Birds, birds and more birds

The hibiscus was a-twitter with little birds this evening. I stood in the shade of the ivy and watched a proud mommy double-collared sunbird feeding aphids to her offspring, which has so many fluffy feathers that it is almost twice her size. I have listened to its plaintive twee-ee-eep for a few days now, wondering what it was and it is a great relief to identify it and know that its song will improve with age! Father sunbird was perched on the topmost twig, displaying his magnificent plumage while watching his little family jumping from twig to twig. I stepped forward to get a closer look and they were gone in a swoop, disappearing into the myrtle hedge nearby.

This hedge is home to at least five types of bird: boubou, mousebird, white-eye, sunbird and prinia, and no doubt others that I have not seen or managed to identify. Quite likely a few snakes frequent its dark interior, seeking an easy meal, but I haven't come across one of those, except for the large snake I nearly stepped on last year as I opened the gate. I don't think that one was heading for the hedge! Although I know it is quite a fire hazard, I would be reluctant to completely remove what is more like a copse than a hedge (it's been lining the driveway for 30 years now) for the reason that it is home to a lot of wildlife and provides shelter from the wind and privacy from the road.

The driveway is also the feeding ground for a small group of guinea fowl, a couple of francolins and at least thirty-five assorted doves and rock pigeons, as we scatter mixed grain for them - when the grass is tall and has gone to seed, we don't need to put out much food as they are well able to feed themselves, but HWCFA likes to have a few tame birds around that will patter into the garage and keep him company, picking out the sunflower seeds from the food bin and hardly leaving the ground when Monty does his mock charge, trying to reassert his authority.

The garden provides food for the seed and fruit eaters - now if someone can tell me what eats snails, I will be able to feed the meat eaters too!

Be a tourist at home - it pays in every way

On our adventures up the West Coast yesterday, we decided to go down to the sea to Yzerfontein to look for lunch and perhaps spot a whale or two. Dad knew exactly where he was heading and in no time we had parked outside Cafe Rene Coffee Lounge. In we went, and were greeted like old friends by the host, Rene, an extremely attentive Dutchman who remembered Dad from the last time he was there about a year ago. The cafe is an addition to the older house, which is a restaurant decorated in traditional, comfortable style, while the cafe is a single room in a stark modern style but at the same time attractive and welcoming.

We engaged in considerable conversation as he showed us both eating areas, the various menus (short and easy to decide on, on simple chalk boards) - there was at no stage the feeling that you were being waited on, rather being hosted by an old friend. We chose fish dishes - it is always best to have something you can't normally cook yourself, otherwise what is the point in eating out - and were delighted with what arrived on the plates. Sole cooked lightly in butter and literally buried under blanched and roasted almonds, with a vegetable accompaniment of skewered homemade fried potato slices, green peppers, baby marrows and banana (all lightly cooked to perfection, including the banana!) A slice of lemon, strawberries, feta cheese and a kumquat completed the dish.What a combination of flavours and textures - and so successful!

A shared slice of a traditional Dutch cake that was so delicate and flavoursome that we did wonder why we were sharing it rounded off an excellent meal. We got the distinct impression that his menu is not printed because he uses whatever ingredients he can find on the day and he certainly knows what to do with them. We will definitely be going back again - Mom and Dad have been a number of times over the last few years, always a good experience.

We drove along the coast as far as Pearl Bay, gawping in amazement at the veritable mansions that have sprung up among the fynbos on this once-pristine strip of coastline overlooking Dassen Island. It seems that the days of having a little shack by the seaside for holidays and fishing trips are long gone. We were cheered up by the sight of a whale slapping its tail on the surface of the sea, time after time, until disappearing from sight. It is said that they do this to send shockwaves through the water to stun shoals of fish so that they can feed easily; that would explain why it disappeared, I would think - having dinner!

With everyone replete, we set off for home at an easy pace, the ever-spectacular view of Table Mountain ahead of us, growing larger with every kilometre, until soon we were driving along the slopes of Newlands and Wynberg, lush leafy green suburbs, a different world from the short scrub of the West Coast. We live in a country of incredible contrasts within such short distances, and it made me think once again that we should all be tourists in our own country before worrying about the cost of overseas holidays with our weak currency - it will take years to experience everything we have on our doorstep.

A field of flowers

Went up the West Coast to look at the flowers today with Mom and Dad. They wanted to go to a special field near Darling where you get out of the car and walk through the field along a designated path to see a variety of bulbs which grow there. They are mainly very small and grow close to the ground so can be hidden in the wild grass, preventing you from seeing them from the road. The showy fields seem to be finished or maybe higher up the coast as we only saw patches of daisies and no bokbaai vygies on the way up.

As usual, a cold wind was blowing in from the sea, making the flowers tremble on their delicate stalks and making photography quite difficult with my little cellphone camera. The field was like a swamp, with standing water all over the place, and even four flamingos at a pond near the top of the field and a spoonbill further along. The tiny flowers were, as they say, like a jewelled carpet, in every hue from white to deepest purple, and presenting in numerous configurations - despite having a very comprehensive book on fynbos, I find it almost impossible to correctly identify most of them, so will just have to make do with the generic 'flower' and fill in the names as time goes by.

One of the most prolific was the chincherinchee, a flower much prized overseas. The wachendorfia and lachenalia were easy to identify and the deep purple-blue bobbejaantjie was impossible to capture in true colour. The advantage of not being able to see them from the road is that it gets you out of your car and into the wild, where the only sound is the wind blowing across the undulating hills and through the wild grasses on their way to the far-off, snow-capped mountains.

In the Cape Floristic Region, which covers 90 000 square kilometres, you will find nearly 9 000 species of flowering plants, two-thirds of which occur nowhere else in the world.  We found at least ten species within a few square metres. One can only imagine what the Cape must have looked like before man arrived with machines that churned up the soil and replaced the delicate flowers with grains from Europe. What remains in the uncultivated areas is a source of natural beauty that attracts visitors from around the world, and we must thank the climate that makes agriculture unfeasible in vast areas for the preservation of our heritage.

Lazy kind of day

The day dawned sunny and surprisingly warm, considering the 'big storm' with accompanying snow was but a few days ago. We no longer leap out of bed at 6 every day on weekends, a sign of advancing age - at last! - and get up at a civilised hour when breakfast calls. We even waited for the daisies to open before taking the dogs down to the lighthouse. How times change!

The major portion of the day was taken up lolling in a garden chair beside the braai, chatting to an old friend and watching wisps of cloud form overhead and dissolve into the blue again before regrouping in a new shape. It seemed that the clouds couldn't quite decide whether to put in an appearance or not. As evening drew closer, they decided to form a large sheet that effectively blocked out the sun, just as we took the dogs down to the crayfish factory at Witsands. The air took on a distinctly chilly note and we only stayed for ten minutes, but it was nice to be down by the sea on a beach scoured clean of all kelp and debris by the strong tides and remember the time that the sea washed straight through the house adjoining the little factory on the island. There was a hurricane at the time and the waves just broke through the front windows and out the back ones! Things were never quite the same again!

Walking the dogs

Took the doggies for a walk this evening along the boardwalk - it was quite cool, as the sun was going down and the daisies had already gone to bed - we will have to go again in the middle of the day to appreciate the display of white and pink. We each take one dog - they have to be on a lead, as is the law, although for us it is for convenience, as they tend to dash for freedom at the first chance and come home hours later in a terrible mess - and as the walk progresses, HWCFA and Monty get further and further away from Susie and me. We always bring up the rear for two reasons - I have a particularly short stride, and Susie sniffs at every single tuft of grass we pass. I have always found it really annoying to have to stop every few metres when the purpose of a walk is to get exercise, but then it occurred to me that we were imposing our idea of a walk on the dogs, when we have different expectations. For us it is exercise, but for them it is 'picking up the post' as they make contact with the scents of other dogs and leave their own messages to be read later. They have more than enough room in the garden to exercise and they regularly chase cats so can really get their heart rates up. So if we want to exercise, we will have to leave the dogs at home! Seeing it this way really puts it into perspective and takes away the irritation factor.

Another example of how changing your thinking can change your life!

The big seas of the past few days have subsided, leaving evidence of their power in the piles of extremely heavy kelp lying jumbled along the path. Most of it has been cleared away, so the path is no longer blocked, and the rocky shore along the normal high tide mark has been completely scoured of all kelp and jetsam, making it look as though a giant vacuum cleaner has been at work.

The sunset pictures were snapped as I stood among quite a number of photographers with posh cameras and lenses about the length of my forearm. I'm sure their photos are much better, but I wonder if they got the bird placed as perfectly as I did by chance!

Felled by the flu

Following further freezing fronts for the Fairest Cape, I have been felled by the flu. Although this in no way impairs my typing fingers, a night spent coughing has caused the brain to lapse into standby mode, so here are some pictures of today's sea off Kommetjie:

Plunging back into winter

Two weeks ago I foolishly courted disaster by mentioning Spring! We are back into the deepest winter weather, with spring tides at the equinox (or at least overlapping by a day or so), driving rain and plummeting temperatures. We are expecting it to be -3 on top of Table Mountain tomorrow and snow will fall on the high mountains of the Western Cape. This is certainly proving to be a long winter and feels like an unusually inclement September. School holidays, when I was young (!) involved lying on the beach in September, but I don't think next week's holiday will bring out too many bikinis.

I wonder if the A-team, that intrepid group that braves the water each morning, has been keeping a clean record? If they have, no-one has been there with a camera, but then the photographer is not one of the swimmers, so you can't blame her for having a little lie-in!

Last Thursday, I waded in the bay, my thoughts once again turning to the idea of buying a paddle-ski and athletically rowing up and down in the protected water of the bay, where kelp apparently keeps the sharks away. Today it seems as though that was a hundred years ago, testimony to the many moods of the sea. I have investigated the paddle-ski story, but have yet to find something that looks even remotely small enough for me to lug down to the rocks and, more importantly, back up again! My daughter says I am far too old for such activities and am a candidate for a broken hip if I slip.

But doubtless in a few days' time, the sun will be shining and the sea will once again look like the kind of place to pass an hour or so, gently gliding over the water, far, far from the madding crowd.

C'est La Vie!

I was taken out for breakfast today to a place I should have discovered long ago - C'est La Vie! It's a delightful bakery/cafe in Kalk Bay, opposite Dalebrook pool, with ample parking nearby overlooking the whales which are currently in residence along the False Bay coastline. Today the Kalk Bay reef was dotted with surfers, so there was plenty of action to keep me entertained until my friend arrived. Despite some years of roadworks along the Main Road, the contractors seem to be raising or lowering the manholes and so are chopping up their freshly laid tar all over again, causing minor traffic delays - I suspect this is their way of exercising traffic control, as some motorists are using the road as a race track now that it is open again, and one was clocked at 100km/h recently, an accident waiting to happen.

C'est La Vie is owned and run by a woman who trained in France in the traditional bread-making methods and other French confectionery, and the decor is simple but attractive. Seating is inside the shop, or through the kitchen to an outside area, which in summer would be a great option. The fare is bread or croissant-based and I chose a croissant amply filled with fluffy scrambled free-range eggs, perfectly crisped bacon and rocket. The croissant itself was not large, but was delicately melt-in-the-mouth and the whole eating experience was one that I was reluctant to end! It was without doubt a gourmet experience in the simplest possible way. The cappuccino was rich and full-bodied without being harsh, but I would have preferred a larger cup! Portions are not large, but entirely sufficient, and you can expect to pay a little more than usual, but only a little - and cash will be required as no cards are accepted.

They are closed on a Monday and Tuesday, but I would highly recommend a visit, particularly after a spot of whale watching or a stroll on the walkway to Muizenberg along the seafront.

Komwatch - keeping us safer

I went to the local neighbourhood watch meeting tonight. I thought it would be rude not to support it, seeing that we find it so comforting to know that someone else is out there every night and day, patrolling our streets and responding to calls for assistance, and all on a volunteer basis. They are a dedicated team, as are all the neighbourhood watches in this country, unfortunately through necessity, as visible policing seems to have all but disappeared and organised house invasions are the order of the day. These are not, I think, random choices, but informed choices, as the targets always have what they are looking for - jewellery, guns, cash. They aren't interested in TVs or computers unless a car is also available to stash it in.

I don't live in fear of such an invasion, as one look at the cars we drive (all old models) will let them know not to waste their time. I haven't heard yet of a robbery at a house where the thieves got away with nothing. I have thought of putting a sign on the gate: Don't bother! Our fluffy yappers do a pretty good job by way of an alarm system and the fence has deadly spikes. My plan is to install one of those old-fashioned klaxon hooters under the eaves, together with a huge spotlight, and link them to a remote control. In the event of an intruder, I think the noise and light show should give him such a fright he would be gone in a flash.

But in all seriousness, I am prepared to make a cash contribution to the expense of running these patrols of volunteers who enable us to sleep more restfully at night, knowing that they will respond in less than two minutes to our call. I'm afraid I'm just not made of the stuff required to be one of those intrepid volunteers.

Kommetjie rocks - Final resting place for marine mammals

We really are having a late winter! This September must go down as being one of the worst ever - three cold fronts over the last three days and another one tonight and Thursday going to be a big one, we hear. If only we had a row of water tanks to catch all this water - it seems an awful shame to watch it going down the garden in a river on its way to the sea. I suppose we can take comfort from the rising water table which hopefully will see us through the summer months via the wellpoints.

The third duvet has gone back on the bed, together with two dogs and a cat, and two hot water bottles every night! Unheard of even through the darkest nights of July and August! And yet we still cannot complain - every day for a few hours the sun comes out as the clouds blow away ahead of the next cold front. The sea has maintained its storminess and last night it threw vast piles of kelp up onto the path along the rocks - a long time since that has happened, and at half-moon is quite a testament to the weather.

About a week ago, a foul smell of rotting flesh assailed our nostrils as we walked near the lighthouse, and we eventually spotted the carcass of a large seal wedged among the rocks. Hopefully the sea has now reclaimed it to decompose in a more dignified manner away from curious dogs and scavenging rats and crows. I often wonder if they die of natural causes or have been hit by the boats and ships that ply up and down our coastline. Of course, they are not endangered and it is probably just good luck that the rocks aren't littered with more dead seals.

About ten years ago, a whale washed up onto the shelf of rock near the lighthouse and the surrounding area was covered in a thick layer of slippery blubber for a long time after the carcass disappeared. As I recall, the whale was burned by lighting fires all around it at low tide and once the blubber caught alight it didn't take too long before just the skeleton remained. The prevailing wind direction fortunately took the smell and acrid smoke out to sea - it would have been too awful to have that drifting through the house and I'm sure we would have been put off meat for a long time.

Wild September seas

The South Peninsula really does have a different climate to the northern suburbs! We went north to fetch the racing car (it needs a little attention to the gearbox before the last race) in driving rain and howling wind. When we came back over Ou Kaapse Weg, the clouds were clearing and it was obvious that no rain had fallen down south since early in the morning. As the day progressed, the clouds blew away and the sun warmed the daisies, encouraging them to open their snow-white petals for a while so that we could enjoy their simple beauty.

Out to sea, the remnants of the cold front made landfall in the form of the biggest seas so far this winter, and we've had quite a few! A friend who lives two blocks from the sea told me her neighbours had a party last night with lots of doef-doef music and she could still hear the sea over that noise. As ever, the only way to really appreciate these seas is by walking along the beachfront, but I took a few pictures to add to my already excessive collection (thank goodness for digital) and hope to produce a painting or two with these as my inspiration.

Freedom at Cape Point

This afternoon we decided to take advantage of SA National Parks' free access week to selected nature reserves and obviously chose Cape Point, as that is where we have been going for the last 40 years or so. We set off in the Mini in bright sunshine, but as we got closer to Cape Point, dark clouds were gathering on the horizon and we could see that the sunshine would soon be a thing of the past. We took our usual turn down to Olifantsbos which He Who Can Fix Anything has frequented since the age of 3 and if he could live there, he would. In all the years we have been going there, the only fauna we have seen are baboons, bontebok, ostriches and tortoises. If there is anything else at Cape Point, it has yet to put in an appearance for us.

The bokbaai vygies gave a brilliant display in the last of the sunshine and we pulled in at the place where a house used to be many, many years ago. We can no longer find the remains, but I recall 40 years ago seeing odd bricks from the walls lying in the overgrowth. While I remained at the car, looking at birds and flowers, HWCFA took a short hike up the mountain and suddenly called me with some urgency. I rushed up through the trees thinking that there must be something really worth seeing and there was.

Trapped under a low branch and lying on its back, with absolutely no way of ever righting itself, was a large tortoise. I can only think it must have toppled over, perhaps in a fight with another tortoise, and become wedged because of the sloping ground. He lifted the branch while I climbed underneath the bushes and pulled the tortoise free. There was no sign of life and we were very worried that it had already died.

We put it out on the lawn and stepped back to see if a leg or the head would come out, and within a few minutes I am delighted to say he was on his way, apparently fit and well, but there is no doubt that he would have died had we not come across him.

There is no doubt that synchronicity ensured that we would be in that exact place and look down at that exact moment to allow us to rescue that tortoise from certain death.

Working at the wetlands

What a great morning! I joined the men and woman (one) of the City of Cape Town Nature Conservation and Wally Petersen of the Kommetjie Environmental Awareness Group down at Skilpadsvlei, where a large-scale planting of wetland vegetation was taking place. The sky was grey and a cold north-wester was blowing off the Atlantic, but down in the wetland behind the milkwoods the spirit was enthusiastic and willing as we dug, planted, wallowed in the mud and occasionally almost slipped into the vleis. The area has been restored to its original and natural function of a wetland supporting a variety of amphibious and avian life, having been poorly treated over the years as a dumping ground for builders' rubble (illegally, of course).

This year's rain has caused the water to rise far above the expected levels and some of the previous plantings have not fared so well under water, but restios and other plants that love to get their feet wet were the order of the day. At last I had found a use for the garish, yet oddly attractive rubber boots I bought at the beginning of winter and without them, there is no way I would have been able to help under those swampy conditions. There were times when it was like quicksand as I tramped the plants into position and found myself overbalancing as one foot remained firmly clamped in the mud. Luck came my way on Friday the 13th and I didn't find myself face down in the vlei.

Despite grovelling in the mud for many hours without gloves, not one fingernail broke, although it required a good soaking in a basin of bubble bath and very hot water to clean the dirt out afterwards! A local restaurant sent down trays bearing filter coffee to keep the chain gang moving and in three hours we planted three truckloads of plants.

It was really rewarding to be part of the team working there and to know that our rates are being used for conservation purposes still. It makes it seem worthwhile paying them, and to meet the men on the ground and listen to their conversation about what is planned in this arena gives hope for the future.

Snail attack at the rocks

It was too good a day to stay at home doing chores, so this afternoon I went down to the rocks to test the temperature of the water. I can safely say it is whatever temperature makes your feet go numb instantly so that you can't feel how cold it is! To herald the almost onset of Spring, I rolled up my jeans and ventured into a sandy patch, about knee deep, and stood there for fifteen minutes, enjoying the ebb and flow of the tide and the fronds of kelp wrapping themselves around my legs as the rising tide began to fill the bay.

On the rocks nearby, a handful of cormorants sunned themselves, while another dived after fish, being outdone by a gull that divebombed into the water and came up with what looked to be either a large red fish or a very small crayfish! It flew off with its catch to the island where it settled on a rock to get down to the serious business of dinner. A lone oystercatcher hopped from rock to rock, its mate no doubt somewhere close by. I saw a pair of swallows swooping low over the rocks, their wings almost brushing the surface as they pursued insects in fighter jet mode - perhaps two swallows make a summer?

When I climbed back onto the rocks, I found a conical snail attached to my foot and when I tried to prise it off, it took some effort. Blood oozed from where it had been apparently feeding on my foot! The photo shows a rather unattractive foot (!) - it had been in freezing water for a while so that's my excuse - with the evidence of munching. It seems that it's not sharks we should look out for, but snails!

Kommetjie moods

One of those days when life just going on. Some photographs will adequately describe life here!