Early signs of spring - far too early

Friday was forecast to be a deluge, but nothing materialised in the southern Peninsula and so we were able to walk in the mountains above Glencairn - an easy stroll with lovely scenery in all directions and initially cool and cloudy but clearing from the south west to sunny skies and another one of those marvellous winter days that make us forget it's winter in Cape Town. The rain fell on the other side of False Bay in the catchment areas, so that was all we needed.

Since our last hike there, the path has become more overgrown and so it seems that nobody goes there much, which is a pity as it is so accessible to hikers of even minimal agility. The same litter marked the way, and one of our party, who is admirably environmentally conscious, brought a bag and collected it all on the way back. We should all make more effort to do so, even though it irks us to clean up after litterbugs who neither know nor care what effect their thoughtlessness has on the planet or our pleasure in living on it.

The alien Port Jackson is thriving and getting near shoulder height and the authorities should be actively rooting out this scourge - there are more than enough people who have nothing to do with their days and would benefit from fresh air and exercise and a few bob in the bank.

Whinging over, and back to the joys of hiking in this beautiful country. Early signs of spring were evident, with hyobanche sanguinea peeking out of the ground in the middle of the path - warnings were issued to hikers with big boots! Babiana ringens (if identified correctly) is also too early, but was plentiful and a first observation for me - very attractive red and yellow. Pelargoniums dotted the landscape and a lovely display of chasmanthe covered the north-facing slope at the foot of a rocky ridge, enjoying the sunshine. Lobostemon and ericas pleased the eye, and the rest remain unidentified, due to the richness of our floral kingdom and the impracticality of putting together a reference book with 9000 colour plates!

One sadness of the day was coming across a rivulet filled with hundreds of tadpoles. There is no rain forecast before Tuesday, and the tadpoles were barely covered by the shallow water. They will no doubt be high and dry in the next day or so unless the mountain can squeeze out a continuous stream to feed their puddle, and so the harsh realities of raw nature were demonstrated by these hapless tadpoles.