Winter - Fire and Ice

Mid-winter (July) in South Africa and the Aloes flower fiery-red against the white of frost. I've been dreading the frost, as some years it has killed all the flowers in the bud. I do have one aloe (the largest of the three, pictured below, which started flowering last) which doesn't seem to be doing so well, the flowers don't seem to have much colour, but hopefully the flowers will still reach maturity, as long as we don't have any more stints of heavy frost.

My chooks have left large, bare patches all over the garden, scrounging for any available greenery as the lawn is all but non-existent.

Lots of mist this morning, a sign that, albeit cold, the day is going to be bright and sunny!

Early morning caught all the birds patiently waiting in the bare peach tree for the first rays of the sun and the feeding tables to be filled, a daily winter’s morning occurrence. This morning there weren’t as many, some mornings I’ve counted up to 50 before losing track. They mostly consist of Weavers, Laughing Doves, Bishops and Sparrows with the odd Bulbul.

Some say the world will end in fire;
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
~ One of Robert Frost’s most popular poems, published in December 1920 in Harper’s Magazine

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Winter, Bonsai and other ramblings

It took a while for summer to admit to defeat, pummelling us with heat wave after heat wave even well into autumn and autumn was decidedly short-lived, dumping us straight into icy weather with lots of snow all over the country, Here in Tarlton (Gauteng, South Africa), we suffered low temps of only 11C during the day, with the nights and early mornings well below freezing point. And to make matters worse, we even had some rain. Rain in winter is not in the scheme of things here in Gauteng, we're a summer rainfall area. I was worried about my succulents, but I needn't have been, they didn't seem to mind the rain, it's frost that's deadly to them. And luckily we've not seen much of that yet. We just have to get through July and then the worst is over. Even my Chooks aren't particularly impressed with the cold - Kiep comes in every day for a stint in from of my gas heater, laying down, spreading her legs and wings, soaking up the heat and looking a lot like road kill!

And much to Jacko's chagrin, she commandeered his blanket in front of the heater, spending most of the morning until it was time to go outside for a snack.

Don't get me wrong, I much prefer the cold to the heat-waves we've been having, and I am extremely grateful to have a warm roof over my head, something many people don't have. Situated barely 100 miles (160km) south of the Tropic of Capricorn, you might expect Johannesburg, South Africa's commercial capital, to be bathed in tropical heat all the year round. But this city of 4m inhabitants lies 5,500 feet (1,700 metres) above sea level and it is now mid-winter. So although the middle of the day is generally warm, with clear blue skies and a sun too hot to sit out in comfortably, the nights can be bitterly cold, with temperatures dropping below freezing. But apart from the fancier hotels and some upmarket office blocks and homes, almost no one has central heating—or adequate heating of any form for that matter. South Africa’s several million strong homeless population was particularly hard hit as temperatures plunged to record lows in many parts of the country and in May 2007, at least 17 people died from exposure, highlighting the country’s chronic housing shortage.

But winter is also the time when all my Aloes start flowering and when nature provides extra sustenance to her wildlife through nectar in these beautiful flowers. Every winter my garden is flooded with Sunbirds and nectar-loving insects, bringing great joy to my heart. Winter is also when nature gets rid of the old and weak, preparing the landscape for new life in spring.

Last spring I did the unthinkable - I planted my 1983 Natal Fig bonsai in the garden. I got him as a 3-year old in 1982 and for 33 years I've been tending him, neglecting him, tending him again, pruning him wrong, taking him to an expert to be fixed, pruning him wrong again, putting him outside every spring and carrying him into the house every late-Autumn for the winter. A symptom of the neglect is that he got very big. He has been in the same pot for years without me taking him out and trimming his roots to maintain a reasonable size. Getting heavier and heavier, it became a major job for two men to move him inside every winter and spring. His trunk is beautiful, thick and gnarled, with aerial roots hanging down the one side, anchoring him more firmly to the ground.

But as time went by, he started showing real signs of neglect. When I looked at this photo of him (above) which I took last July 2015 (winter) inside my flower room, it was clear to me that he was at the end of his tether and beyond saving. My heart broke. But now I've got this short-coming that I can't kill anything, not even an un-saveable plant, so in September last year (Spring), I chose a protected spot in the garden and plonked him in a well-prepared hole and said to myself, "que se ra, se ra". Deep in my heart I'm suffering because I've got this suspicion that this winter might kill him, being an Eastern Coastal Belt Forest resident of South Africa.

After a month in the garden, there was already a vast improvement, as can be seen in the pic of him in the garden. Most of the branches had already filled up with new leaves and he was looking bright green and much healthier. In the meantime I've read up a bit more about about this tree and it turns out that the versatile Ficus natalensis (also known as "Mutuba" to locals) is wind and drought resistant and tolerates temperatures from -5C – 30+C. It occurs naturally in both moist woodland and dry open areas of the country and is evergreen, which did not seem evident when I had him in the pot, as he lost a lot of his leaves every winter. With a height of 5m-20m and a spread of 4m-8m, I might just have to change my garden when he gets bigger, if he survives our severe Tarlton frost.

My "gardening skills " ego has been dealt a great blow with the "loss" of my Bonsai, as Ficus natalensis is one of the most widely used species by Bonsai enthusiasts. The fat stem and intricately gnarled roots are perfect for achieving a variety of popular Bonsai styles. This species grows ’banyan’ roots naturally which can be showcased as dramatic air-root or root over rock styles. The Natal Fig grows fast and is quite forgiving if incorrect watering methods are applied, making this the ideal choice for the novice enthusiast. So how "novice" am I ........? 

I am your home...

Lichens and mosses

A leafy foliose lichen (Xanthoparmelia substrigosa) on the trunk of my Acacia karroo tree

After heavy rains we had in early April, many of my trees, and rocks, sported lichens and mosses, totally fascinating! And now, two months later, they are still there, but have turned pale grey. But understanding lichens is complex (to me at least!), so I've had to resort to an internet search to explain them.

Worldwide, over 20,000 species are known. A lichen is not a single organism. Rather, it is a symbiosis between different organisms - a fungus and an alga or cyanobacterium. Cyanobacteria are sometimes still referred to as 'blue-green algae', though they are quite distinct from the algae. The non-fungal partner contains chlorophyll and is called the photobiont. The fungal partner may be referred to as the mycobiont. While most lichen partnerships consist of one mycobiont and one photobiont, that's not universal for there are lichens with more than one photobiont partner. When looked at microscopically, the fungal partner is seen to be composed of filamentous cells and each such filament is called a hypha. These hyphae grow by extension and may branch but keep a constant diameter. Amongst the photobionts there are those that are also filamentous in structure while others are composed of chains or clusters of more-or-less globose cells.

Given that they contain chlorophyll, algae and cyanobacteria can manufacture carbohydrates with the help of light via the process of photosynthesis. By contrast, fungi do not make their own carbohydrates. Every fungus needs existing organic matter from which to obtain carbon. In a lichen some of the carbohydrate produced by the photobiont is of course used by the photobiont but some is 'harvested' by the mycobiont.

Lichens are classified with the fungi (being sometimes referred to as lichenized fungi) and can be found growing in almost all parts of the terrestrial world, from the ice-free polar areas to the tropics, from tropical rainforests to those desert areas free of mobile sand dunes.

Foliose lichens could be thought of as halfway between crustose (two dimensional) and fruticose (erect). Though obviously three dimensional, they grow in a more-or-less sheet-like form, but often with a lobed appearance. They are not attached by their entire lower surfaces to their substrates. Indeed, some foliose lichens are just centrally attached.

Another part of the same tree trunk, lower down, was covered in moss. Now Wikipedia says, "Mosses are small flowerless plants that typically grow in dense green clumps or mats, often in damp or shady locations. The individual plants are usually composed of simple, one-cell thick leaves, attached to a stem that may be branched or un-branched and has only a limited role in conducting water and nutrients."

The same thick mat of moss also formed on a rock on my patio, but both of them never quite got to the thick stage and have now all but disappeared. The moss life-cycle starts with a haploid spore that germinates to produce a protonema (pl. protonemata), which is either a mass of thread-like filaments or thalloid (flat and thallus-like). Massed moss protonemata typically look like a thin green felt, and may grow on damp soil, tree bark, rocks, concrete, or almost any other reasonably stable surface. This is a transitory stage in the life of a moss, but from the protonema grows the gametophore ("gamete-bearer") that is structurally differentiated into stems and leaves. A single mat of protonemata may develop several gametophore shoots, resulting in a clump of moss. But they do need a lot of damp to continue surviving.

Most mosses rely on the wind to disperse the spores, but It has recently been found that microarthropods, such as springtails and mites, can effect moss fertilization.

Image credit

It seems that, given enough moisture, moss might still take over the world! lol!

Black-headed Heron (Ardea melanocephala)

I had an awesome visitor this morning, a Black-headed Heron (Ardea melanocephala). We don't often see them, mostly just after a veld fire, when they will snack on some unfortunate crispy tit-bits left in the wake of the fire. But this morning he was close to my garden fence and, as previously, didn't seem that perturbed about me taking some photos.

They mostly hunt near water, but will also hunt well away from water, taking large insects, small mammals, and birds. It will wait motionless for its prey, or slowly stalk its victim. It's fascinating to watch, but his patience long outlives mine, as he can stand motionless for longer than 10 minutes and by that time I think he's fallen asleep! Both sexes are alike, so I have no idea whether this is a male or a female.

Monogamous and usually colonial, they breed in small, mixed-species heronries. The male calls from a perch to attract a mate, raising its head and giving a loud yelp, sometimes extending its bill vertically as it does so. I've only heard that sound once, and I was totally thrilled!

African Striped Skink (Trachylepsis striata)

This Striped Skink was enjoying the sun on the wall of my bathroom court-yard garden and she was heavily pregnant (pic taken last October). Mating occurs between October and November, with a gestation period are 90 to 100 days, so I presume she was to give birth within a month or two, usually a single litter of 3 – 9 babies. Growth is relatively fast, sexual maturity is reached in 15 – 18 months. Last summer, my Skinks had several litters in my bathroom court-yard garden, much to my delight.

The African Striped Skink (Trachylepsis striata), commonly called the Striped Skink, is a lizard in the skink family (Scincidae). The species is widespread in Southern Africa, including extreme southern Angola and Zambia, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and parts of central and eastern South Africa.

Skinks typically seek out sheltered environments out of the elements, such as thick foliage, underneath man-made structures, and ground-level buildings such as garages and first-floor apartments. When two or more skinks are seen in a small area, it is typical to find a nest nearby. Skinks are considered to be territorial and often are seen standing in front of or "guarding" their nest area.

Two males squaring it off, ready to defend their territory

This skink is brown or bronze coloured with two yellowish stripes that run lengthwise on either side of the spine. Both sexes grow to a length of 25 cm.1 Their tails are often missing due to predators.

To bless this kind earth... and yourself

Now that we're over the worst of summer (and it really was the pits, with extreme heat-waves, temps in the 40℃'s and drought) and had some lovely rain to break the heat and drought, I'm enjoying time outside in my garden again. I just get absolutely cranky, and listless, when it gets that hot, and can't seem to get around to doing anything outside. But as we all know, we NEED to get outside, we need to spend time in nature, otherwise life becomes unbearable. Well, for me anyway. My plants and the birds in my garden are part of my family, and I feel as though I've lost track of what's going on in their lives. I just did the bare necessities during that heat, filling the water bowls and feed tables and the rest, like watering the garden, was left up to my trusty garden manger, Chrissie. I even thought of telling her to chat to the birds, because I wasn't getting round to it!

But my garden doesn't seem to have minded my absence. It's like a jungle out there after all the rain. Nature's revenge to neglect is that, when left undisturbed and given time, she will reclaim anything built by humanity. So basically, no need to feel guilty here, life finds a way.

 There's a pathway somewhere in there, totally covered now by Bulbine and Sword ferns.

Even the birds don't seem to have noticed my absence. No excitement or fluttering or welcoming twittering when I started spending time in the garden again. Maybe they were even pleased about not being constantly stalked by my camera. Eating and bathing and nesting carried on as usual, making me feel a bit unwanted...

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