Sparrowhawks

 This handsome chap made a flying visit the other day. He may be the adult version of the one at left who visited over the last few months, and it would have helped to be able to see a ring on his leg. This is the first time I have seen a black sparrowhawk with these markings, as those that breed in the area are usually of the melanistic variety and have fewer white feathers.

Here we have the redbreasted sparrowhawk which is a little smaller, and tends to go for locusts rather than doves! Not as frequent a visitor as the black sparrowhawk. The dove on the next branch didn't seem bothered.

Here we have another juvenile black sparrowhawk looking a bit moulty (sic). I would say there are about three that visit regularly to prey on the doves here and doubtless I will keep on taking photos in the hope that I catch one on the wing!

Flowers abound on Ou Kaapse Weg

Driving over Ou Kaapse Weg this morning was a real treat. Due to the fact that a front end loader was inching its way over the pass behind a bread truck and closely followed by a double flatbed horse and trailer, interspersed with 100 or so cars, I was able to glance idly from side to side for the entire 10km route. This revealed the current revegetation occurring on the mountains after the devastating fire last February. Although we may be complaining about the dry winter we have had, it turns out that nature arranged everything perfectly as usual. Occasional soft rain has allowed uniform growth over the entire expanse of the area, with no flooding or washaways that have caused havoc over the last few winters with road closures and major traffic disruption.
Dark pink watsonias cover great swathes of veld, with the white, light pink and salmon coloured varieties also putting on a good show. The pincushions that survived the fire are a mass of orange and yellow flowers, and even those that were thought to have been burned have shot out new leaves along their branches. The splendid Orange Nodding Head (now regrettably called a less aptly descriptive mountain dahlia) can be seen on the rocky slopes and the bracken has fully recovered around the streams and waterfalls, which surprisingly are still in spate.
Bright yellow flowers on long stems wave in the fresh northwester and the upper reaches of the pass are covered in masses of salmon coloured multifloral plants (I was told what they are, but the name escapes me).
Names of course are unimportant if you are simply wanting to admire and take in all the beauty that this drive affords us every, free of charge. All it takes is a good traffic snarl-up and you can do it!

Fires and fireworks

There's always something happening in the South Peninsula. Yesterday we had hot, balmy weather all day and right through the night, and awoke to more of the same, although high cloud threatened thundery weather. This has not yet materialised, but the wind has picked up from the north west and the sea has developed quite a chop. This must have been very uncomfortable for the return trip of the tunny boats that left Hout Bay in the early hours to look for fish way down beyond Cape Point. I watched one boat literally lift out of the water with only the propeller making contact with the sea. I know from experience how hard on the knees it is to brace yourself for that crash down into the trough or the face of the next wave. Bone-crushing! The low cloud that is racing in from the sea now is as gloomy as Scrooge at Christmas.
Earlier on, a pall of smoke rose from the valley and thanks to social media it was quickly established that the cause was arson (isn't it always?) and the reeds in the wetlands between Kommetjie and Noordhoek were ablaze. The good news is that the arsonist was caught, but that is cold comfort for the creatures trapped in the flames or for those who have to suffer from the falling ash and smoke inhalation. Perhaps said person could be put on firefighting duties for the next five years.
Tonight is Guy Fawkes - a celebration that is meaningless here and should have been dispensed with decades ago. The trauma suffered by cats and dogs and doubtless wild animals too, just for the sake of a few sparkles in the air and the usual incidents of burns and more fires (perhaps today was a practice for a bonfire!) cannot be justified and I hope that people will eventually allow it all to fade away.

Snakey days

Today it's been hot and still - what I call a snakey day. Growing up on the mountainside in Clovelly, without a fence between the garden and the mountain, we always had a snake in the area and sometimes more than one. I remember my grandmother's cat, Gingernut, sitting mesmerized before a swaying cobra near the back door, and regrettably the incident ended badly, with the neighbour taking out his gun (I can't remember if it was a pellet gun, but it was a long barrel) and disposed of the cobra, no doubt thinking that he had ensured the safety of all concerned. We would have preferred to scuttle back inside and wait for it to go. On another occasion, two puffadders were amorously entwined in the same area and we stood on a big rock observing this in fascination. I still have the photo somewhere, and I was about 11 at the time!
Regular readers will know that there is still a resident cobra or maybe more in Dad's garden and yesterday it came out for a drink at the fish pond, no doubt hoping to sup on the leopard toad that was maintaining a low profile under the geranium! The snake eventually slithered back up to the upper reaches of the garden and the toad leapt into the middle of the fish pond, to see another day. Earlier on, a good-looking (meaning large and well-fed) molesnake was also seen passing by on its way up the mountain. Always something going on!

Pumping wind

 November's first southeaster is turning into a real gale. Birds are being buffeted, clouds stand no chance, and the sea is being whipped backwards at such a rate that I don't think the tide was able to come in. At times like this, the backwash from the harbour wall at Kalk Bay provides ideal conditions for massive waves to batter the buildings that face the sea, and I think are actually a great selling point for tables at these restaurants, as patrons are never sure whether the fish on their plates will be returned from whence they came, as smashed windows followed by flooding seawater has become the norm.
 A great following of photographers has grown around these spectacular occasions, rather like the storm chasers that follow tornadoes in the American mid-West, hoping to capture that once-in-a-lifetime shot of wild destruction. Although many use zoom lenses and remain at a safe distance, there are those who don't mind a little dicing with death, or at the least getting a good drenching. (Google Kalk Bay waves and I am sure you will find stunning shots.)
These intrepid souls enable us armchair viewers to almost smell the salt spray and shiver a little at nature's power in the comfort of our homes, as a trip to Kalk Bay to watch waves is not an easy undertaking as the roadworks and stop/go arrangement continue to shred tempers. This was alleviated slightly by some good whale-watching opportunities for those stuck in the queue, but all is quiet in False Bay at the moment.
The whale action  off Kommetjie is into its third day, as the large pod of probably Bryde's whales feed and frolic in the bay, but they could disappear as suddenly as they appeared. We will enjoy them while we can.

A whale of a time!

Yesterday's wind flattened the sea on the Atlantic side and offered residents of Kommetjie who happened to look out to sea an uninterrupted view of a pod of 15 or so whales which decided to frolic just off-shore. Although we probably have whales passing by every day as they traverse the oceans, I don't recall seeing more than four at a time, and so to see so many spouts at once was reminiscent of a fountain. They remained all day, moving further out to sea this afternoon but still visible as they breached and blew. Usually they pass by in an hour or so, and it would be interesting to know what is keeping them here.
I have done some research on the sighting and have concluded, whether wrongly or rightly, that they are Bryde's whales, which were first named and recorded in the waters around here back in 1912.  Their blow resembles a tall cloud of about 3 metres and they travel in loose  pods of roughly 15 to 20 individuals when feeding. Their prey is small fish and large shoals of anchovy are often to be found in the bay. They are among the most lively of whales and love to clear the water completely. All of this fits the description of their behaviour. Of course, it was difficult to get photos of worth, but here are a few blows and splashes.

A sudden storm

So November has started off with a bang in Cape Town - not literally - with a sudden cold front that blew in from the south Atlantic and gave us a bit of a battering, along with some very welcome heavy rain and not so welcome strong winds that actually blew over a huge electricity pylon in the northern suburbs. Usually it's trees that blow over, so  perhaps our metal thieves had set their sights a bit higher and had started excavations. Nothing is beyond possibility when it comes to the inventiveness of the criminal element. From the photo it looked as though the cables had remained intact, which would mean that anyone coming into contact with them would be a live wire in the literal sense of the word, although not for long.
The rain has been worthwhile, not the light drizzle of late, and hopefully will raise the dam levels as we approach a summer that promises to be long and hot. I should be able to leave watering of the garden for about a week, giving me a couple of extra hours in the day to get on with more pressing matters. Speaking of which, I am proud to say that I finished ironing the last shirt from the bottom of a pile that started building up three months ago!

In between heavy showers, the sun has shone brightly and the sunbirds have had a wonderful time in the jasmine that has grown up and over the coprosma and is a stunningly fragrant cascade of white, along with the variegated bougainvillea that is entwined in the branches and has begun to flower after some 20 years' waiting!
We are now in November and the infamous Cape Doctor has started to pump across the valley. At this time of year, the southeaster can blow strongly for 10 days at a time. Not something I am looking forward to.