Fynbos treasures

An early spring beckons after good rains here in Cape Town, and traditional cold fronts of a day or two with heavy rains in the catchment area are followed by stunning sunshine and gentle breezes. How easily we are lulled into a false sense of passing winter - we are assured that more rains are to come and dam levels will increase to long unknown levels. Good news, indeed.
The slopes of Swartkopsberg soaring behind Simon's Town are always a challenge for hikers, young and old. Somehow the sun seems warmer and the trail longer than on any other hike, and that is because it's true - there is always someone who falls by the wayside (literally and figuratively) on this hike, and so it was with some trepidation that we started out from the top road overlooking Seaforth. The initial climb is straight up the jeep track, which has been concreted to give easier access to the emergency vehicles that are frequently called out - be it fire or accident - and so a welcome rest break was taken after only 5 minutes. It was an ideal opportunity to begin scouring the area for signs of flowers, and we were not disappointed. These slopes bear fynbos that occurs nowhere else, and it is always exciting to see a plant that you know you haven't seen before. About halfway up to the blockhouse, the path goes through a largeish patch of serruria, currently in full and spectacular bloom and I thought they were only half open, but later learned that this species occurs only in that patch and is named after the mountain - Swartkops serruria or serruria hirsuta. It is possibly the most attractive of the serrurias and the wonder is that the path dissects it. If not, we might never have had the privilege of seeing it.
We stopped often to rest, admire the expansive views from Table Mountain to Danger Point and photograph the fynbos. A low drone of engines carried from far off, and two old Dakotas with a helicopter flying alongside flew slowly across False Bay below our level, disappearing round Cape Point and continuing back up the other side of the Peninsula, past Slangkop lighthouse (I know this because they flew past my house). A single Dakota often goes by, so slowly and so low that if someone looked out of a window, I could probably see them. It's always nice to see and hear it - a far cry from the black supersonic jet that screams by from time to time, also at the same low level.
We never did get to the blockhouse, but the magnificence of the weather and the very fact that we could be up there to appreciate it made that irrelevant in the long run..
On the way down, a barrage of gunfire from the gun battery at Glencairn shattered the silence, causing me to leap about a foot off the ground and the dog to bolt in panic. A warning would have been nice, but later I saw signs along the road advising of gun practice for the navy. I suppose they have to do something.

Erica pulchella

Serruria hirsuta - Swartkops serruria

Hikers enjoying the views

Ericoid amphithalea

Zaluzianskya divaricata - very small and easily overlooked beauty

Spotted blister beetle in moraea collina