Capewinter

Meant to post this Monday morning: work on the windmill progresses. These guys getting it done were in high spirits first thing in the morning. Fun folks.

Before and after our 15 min bird count this morning. A year and a half and we’re still recording more species. Jane identified a Karoo Prinia calling on the far bank.

To photograph birds, you need the longest lenses possible. Here’s a little example. This lovely Common Starling was just across the narrow, one-way road from my balcony. The longest autofocus lens I have at home is a 300mm. This gets you further on the slightly smaller sensor of a lot of cameras than on a traditional 35mm camera (you can imagine the smaller sensor as taking a piece out of the middle of what you’d see in 35mm). ...

This scene again. It was a three kingfisher day today - Pied (which we see most days), Malachite (we see these little jewels maybe every three counts or so), and Giant (seen more rarely - although this lady has a fave spot in the willow so maybe we’ll see her again next week). This in a place that shills for the developers love to pretend is a ruined, lifeless dump.

Terna as I found him soaking in the dawn by our river confluence bird count. In summer I really miss the late dawn that invites you to enjoy it without too much bother. This project is partly what inspired my newfound love for daybreak.

This is from a few days ago when @withoutaleaf and I were up on Plum Pudding Hill. I just wanted to post this to remind myself of this handful of mature silver trees that survived the fire. The trunks were scorched but they came through unlike most. I mentioned that silver trees are hard to photograph. It’s because the top side of the leaf has a gorgeous metallic shine thanks to a profusion of fine hairs. But the underside is a deep green. In photographs this usually gives the impression that they’re a kind of grey green tree. But up close and personal, they’re just spectacular.

I’m heading out thaddaway this afternoon for a different bit of mountain. Pic 2: cork trees really demonstrating why that bark we find so useful evolved. The fire swept through them but all survived in their protective coats. These aren’t indigenous trees but I hope they preserve a couple of the big ones. Pic 3: to my delight, @withoutaleaf joined me on my mountain jaunt the other day. She pointed out the profusion of silver tree saplings that are coming up everywhere after the fire. I’d managed not to notice. Fire is, of course, part of the protea life cycle - hence the name. I can’t describe how beautiful silver trees are. And they’re hard to photograph for a number of reasons. But in real life they’re like something Tolkien and Doctor Seuss would come up with by the fireside after several glasses of wine. ...

Just after dawn at our bird count site on the confluence of the Liesbeek and Black Rivers. We’d just seen a Giant Kingfisher in the willow next to that date palm. The developers are flouting their court order to stop claiming they can just ignore it while they appeal. They seem confident that the courts will bow to their robber-baron capitalism destroying aboriginal heritage and sensitive environments. Let’s hope they’re wrong. People are getting pretty sick of these people ramping up their destruction just as we’re understanding how far it’s gone already.

A perfect winter’s day here in Africa. Update on the cultists: I saw a few close up and they seem very nice. I’ve started to find them reassuring. I also encountered some coming down from above Rhodes Memorial (I inferred they weren’t hikers as one seldom hikes with a large black hardcover book in hand). If people are going to be religious, I think incorporating serious physical activity is a cracking idea in our sedentary society. ...

A bit of a gloomy morning. They’ve begun restoration of the windmill after last year’s fire. Despite being a Saturday the cultists were out in fine form on the lower slopes, clapping erratically as if to banish devils. I find them rather comforting now.