Back in the bushveld

Another fantastic trip to the farm In South Africa has drawn to a close. As usual, it didn't disappoint. Just a week away and I'm already longing to be back. The thought of missing out on those starry skies, abundant animals and untouched bush doesn't seem quite right. Most people would struggle there because it's far away from all mod cons; you can forget about any mall hopping and facebooking, and even a plain old telephone. For four of the five weeks the land line decided to go dead but luckily a telephone tree provided backup. It's a tree twenty minutes up the road where a sporadic mobile signal passes so at least sometimes you can call if the urge is strong. When Richard the phone engineer eventually appeared, his snail-paced saunter said it all. What's the hurry? It's surely all coming - modern technology that is. Slowly encroaching, soon people will be able to check their emails and all of a sudden the bush will become a more inviting place to be. Let's hope it's not too soon.

Spring was on the way. September and October often bring the first rains, complete with fierce electrical storms. That's when I appreciate having a roof over my head. Lightning is so regular that one would  surely be dicing with death to sleep out in a tent. I'm not sure how, but the Baboons manage to remain up on their cliff in such weather, but it must be a terrible time. As the second storm of the year rolled in the young ones cried for an hour beforehand. These must have been around the previous season so they knew what was coming. The first storm was violent and practically "dry". Towards the end, behind the southern hills, a pink glow came from a bush fire that soon got quenched by a light rain that briefly fell. The second storm lasted longer and lashed the hell out of everything in its path. Almost continuous electricity fell from the sky for nearly two hours.  At half time, heavy, tropical rain began to beat on the tin roof. It was hair raising stuff to witness such powerful natural forces so personally.

A couple of lightning bolts fell perilously close to the house. So much so that I beat a swift retreat away from the metal framed window close to which I had been sitting. Where they landed I don't know, but it must have been within a couple of hundred metres because the earth-shattering crash came instantly. Then came the strike when things had all but calmed down. The storm had moved off south leaving a gentle rain its wake and it seemed safe to venture outside. That was a mistake!  I wasn't far from the door when a rip roaring lightning strike crashed into the earth nearby causing the ground to shake. A shower of bright blue sparks cascaded from the workshop roof and I fled to safety, repeatedly cursing and glad to be alive. By far the most impressive sound I have heard - I wondered exactly what had been nailed. The morning after, everything is  fresh and the dust settled from thirty mm of rain, so I wander out to find where the lightning had touched down.

The previous week, a team from the electricity company had arrived with a huge cherry picker intent on making the transformer "lightning proof". I listened intently as Daniel, the leader of the gang, explained about the fancy new surge protectors they were busy fitting to the poles. "Do not worry Scott, now your electricity will continue to flow even in the event of a storm". Old Daniel seemed to have faith, but I wasn't all that convinced. The new protectors looked much like the old ones, but maybe I was missing some of the finer details of the new set-up. Well, I got a closer look because that strike had blown the new components to smithereens. Two lay on the ground and the third dangled on the pole from a strand of wire! So much for Daniel's confidence ...

The South African bushveld isn't an easy place to photograph. Continuous bush makes one landscape look much the same as the next so it's all about the animals and smaller details. As the winter draws to an end the monotonous greys and browns are refreshed with a myriad of fresh greens of new spring leaves. Things are slow at first until the signal of the first rains. Then things happen fast. Suddenly a myriad of insects emerges and snakes begin to move from their winter retreats. I hoped to see one of the resident Rock Pythons and, the day after it rained, a true beauty crossed the dirt road ahead. At three and a half metres it was a big snake. Perhaps not quite big enough to eat a person, but small game such as Steenbok and Duiker would definitely be on the menu. As I photographed he slowly wound up in a the striking pose before trying to sink his teeth into my arm. A metre and a half was as far as he managed to strike, but after a while hebecame bored and retreated  in the most impressive way as huge, sideways swipes of his long body propelled him to safety.

I searched long and hard for a leopard, but obviously not hard enough. This one was encountered inside a hamster cage at a nearby zoo. It was very sad indeed. Unfortunately predators such as leopards face a tough life in the bushveld. Like everywhere in the world, man can't put up with his livelihood being eaten by wild animals. The recent increase of rare game breeding must also make the leopard's life hard. Scarce game animals worth huge sums of money are protected behind huge electric fences that stretch for kilometres through the bush. Soon, if all these fences join up, there may be no corridor left for the wandering leopard  and that will surely seal the fate of this magnificent animal.

Not as large as some of the animals, but probably more impressive, is Wahlberg's Velvet Gecko (Homopholis wahlbergii).  The name is pretty good for starters.

This extremely large Rain Spider had taken up residence in my brother's room in his nice warm bed. After being thrown out it returned a few days later and had to be taken out of spider walking distance from the room as Craig was fast getting arachnophobia! 

Detail of a gecko

Disease resistant buffalo have become much sought after in the last few years and prices for good animals have sky-rocketed. Game auctions are held in the area every few weeks and prospective buyers can view the animals before bidding later in the day. Anything can be bought, from  Rhino or Hippo, down to the smaller species such as Bush Buck and Klipspringer. It all depends on how fat your wallet is! 

While I was on the farm we took a couple of American trophy hunters out to search for animals. One was after a Kudu and the other an Eland. 

Blue Waxbills and a Jameson's Fire Finch provide a dash of colour amongst the dull winter browns. Busy groups of these little birds will often be seen around the water in the early morning before they head off into the bush to feed.

Spring time always gives rise to a flush of new butterflies of various species. Here a newly hatched Acraea prepares to take flight.

One of the large Monkey Thorns (Acacia galpinii) on the farm. Covered in flowers, and being one of the earliest sources of nectar and pollen, it attracts plenty of insects .

Neil's grader waiting for the hydraulic motor to be repaired. Soon it will be in action after the first rains.

Kudu are perhaps the symbol of the bushveld. Kudu bulls are truly magnificent animals that blend in perfectly with their surroundings. The striped face and great curled horns somehow give them an air of aristocracy.

A huge swarm of flies decided to stay in the garden where conditions seemed to be cooler than the surrounding bush. There must have been millions, but luckily they all vanished after the first rains.

Many trees were bursting into flower while I was on the farm. The Monkey thorn's light yellow powder puffs stand out well against the clear blue African sky

As a fancier of mosquitoes, Bibrons Gecko (Pachydactylus bibronii) is always welcome!

Guess who this leg belongs to? A small Leopard Tortoise (Geochelone pardalis) that I found as it was leaving its hibernation retreat ... perhaps a little early in the year, but maybe it could sense the rain coming?

Uncle Mark admiring the very large Rain Spider that took up residence in my brother's bedroom

Klipspringers are nimble little antelope that are perfectly adapted to living on the steepest rocky slopes. When alarmed they will let out a series of stiff snorts before taking off up a nearly vertical cliff.

The hunters and Jet the tracking dog look for Eland.

Periodically, the bush is burnt before the summer arrives. If timing is good, rains will fall shortly after the fires and give the new grass a good kick start. A week after this fire, green shoots were already showing and then thirty mm of rain fell, so there should be a good crop of grass. Some areas, like here, are often choked with Sickle Bush (Dichrostachys cinerea ssp. africana), which forms an impenetrable thicket; fire apparently helps to control it.

A giraffe on Shabala - the neighbouring farm.

An inquisitive Kudu cow.

A banded mongoose, along with nineteen friends, sleeps under one of the tin water reservoirs. Every day after hunting they return in the early evening to laze and play in the rays of the setting sun before retiring to the safety of their burrow. After some time, they became quite used to me and carried on with their antics just a few metre from the camera lens. 

Sunset at the local fishing lake where Carp, Sharptoothed catfish and Tilapia can be expected.

We managed to get out for some fishing on the local Crocodile River and on a lake where these magnificent Tilapia took some worm baits. Locally known as Blue Kurper, they are probably the best eating amongst local freshwater fish. Down on the river, Catfish were also pretty keen to take fish and dove baits. A rogue Serrated Hinged Terrapin of around four kg also took a liking to my bait.

Spring lilies flowering.

This lovely little scorpion decided the kid's dirty clothes was a good place to live. Luckily it was spotted before being able to sting someone.

My grandfather built the house around sixty years ago and the now-mature Jacaranda trees show off their mauve flowers every spring. Huge bougainvilleas add bright pinks to the scene. 

A fairly new sight on the farm is the herd of Zebra.  They seem to have settled in well.

Kudu bulls - Kings of the Bushveld