Tag Archives: gorge

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Flushing Fan-Tailed Grassbirds in the Proteas and Penny Gums

There’s something special about bird watching.

PHOTO BY PIXABAYFebruary 15, 2025

I’m back in the bird challenge for 2025. I bombed out in the early 30s – in August, maybe – of 2024’s 52-week challenge. That felt like good going for being at home for all except two of those weeks.

I learned a lot about birds right under my nose here, including rarities. Two of these amazing finds were the wintering spotted ground thrush and orange ground thrush, which both just happened to appear in my little slice of forest.

If I hadn’t walked down into the dark gorge below the house in winter, I wouldn’t have found them at all. Now that I know they’re there, that’s two more birds I can potentially list this year when the time comes.

Mostly, it’s just exciting to know that I’m preserving some habitat they can shelter in for the next few decades (let’s hope!).

A Little Trail Running Turned Out To Be a Big Birding Win

While exploring, I also found a wonderful fan-tailed grassbird. It was in the middle of some penny gums when I took a little detour on my usual route.

It’s quite hard to describe that moment. The penny gums are beautiful and smell so good. The king proteas nearby were in full flower on one lonely tree.

In front of this, in the penny gums, the bright yellow Cape longclaws were trying to hide in the longish tufts of grass.

I was sneaking up on them to see how close I could get to those skittish birds that are all along the road in Oribi Gorge. As I came around the bend, I flushed the fan-tailed grassbird instead.

It took me a little while to click.

The gorgeous little bird was in its full spring plumage. Bright and clean, it perched on top of a young penny gum tree and looked quite indignant about my disturbance.

Behind it, there was the view of the brown farm slopes dropping down to the Mzimkhulu.

At that point, everything else was just sprouting tiny, almost transparent leaves. I knew they would grow and darken into full green foliage in a few weeks, but right then, the freshness – new life – was palpable. The ocean further beyond that shone in the sun.

Was I in some lost world? As I heard the nearby quarry machines whirring up, the grassbird flew off. I guess not. But it was still so beautiful.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Time Travel Trail Springs Surprises

“My life list is one bird richer, and that’s always exciting.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

August 15, 2024

I’m losing time. I’ve upped the exercise since the youngest has had another change in routine. Each morning is either a walk or a run. That’s the plan anyway, and it’s lovely when it works out.

For the walks, I’m also still trying to do this bird challenge, and my numbers are low, low, low. Four birds by Tuesday is risky when you have to magically find seven by Saturday night, and only the rarest ones are left. Granted, a huge Verreaux’s eagle flew over the house this week, so that’s one of the four and rare. Could a broadbill just pop out of the forest for me, too? Almost impossible.

Blazing a New Trail and Losing Hours

Last week, I went all the way down to the bottom of the trail below the house to find a new bird for the list. It’s very, very steep as you basically descend over 100 metres into the gorge. Then, keep going down where the sun rays don’t often reach. The longer you don’t turn around for, the more of a climb you have to manage back up. Some places are hands-and-knees steep. Other places require boulder hopping and root jumping. I’ve never managed to carry a baby down there.

In winter, it is dry and a bit less slippery over the rocks. Still, I feel like an elephant crunching over all the dry leaves. I often think I’ll chase off all the birds from a mile away with all that noise echoing off the cliff towering above me. Hopefully, that applies to the mambas, too.

I still see all sorts of birds, though. They aren’t accustomed to human people hunting them in this little slice of paradise. Many are just as curious about me as I am about them. This time, as I got near the end of the trail, it was still quite dark and very quiet. You can’t even hear the trucks or cars on the road far above. I found something amazing – a little orange ground thrush hopping toward me to see what I was doing. What a find.

What Else Is Down There? I Need More Time To Find Out

My life list is one bird richer, and that’s always exciting. Plus, I got to watch it for a long time because it didn’t care that I was in its little spot. I didn’t even know it was found in Oribi Gorge.

Needless to say, I’m not sure where the two hours went as I entered this otherworldly place. Breakfast was late, and so was work. I’ll have to set my watch next time to make sure I don’t lose a couple of days. There’s more to find, I’m sure.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Hearing the Roar of the Waterfall

Apparently there is some special limestone-evolved skink here that researchers are trying to pin down.

The beautiful waterfall. PHOTO BY: HEATHER LIND

June 25, 2023

It’s quite a struggle leaving home in the dark. Winter school runs require some otherworldly resolve to crawl out from under the covers. You must will yourself to get the small children dressed, fed, and half-decent for the day.

It’s also ridiculous how much colder we are in Oribi Gorge and Paddock than in town. Oribi Dad often leaves home in the dark with a fleece top and beanie and returns an hour later with a T-shirt and sunglasses. Why bother?

This weather is confusing, too. One minute it’s so dry we’re irrigating the baby macadamia trees and the next there’s giant thunderstorms ripping through our echoing gorge. They strike Eskom poles to leave the whole place off the grid, and not in that idealistic sort of way.

The Waterfall Roars After a Good Storm in Oribi Gorge

The waterfall below our house really pounds after that rain as the water drains from all the surrounding slopes and gathers in the streambed. It roars, much louder than the cane trucks. It’s louder than the UGU bus putting its accelerator flat on the floor to try and get up our winding gorge road without stalling. The waterfall is even louder than the tractors sometimes, and those whizz right past the house.

You can get to the bottom of the waterfall with some careful balancing and boulder-hopping off the rough trail. And once you do, it’s hard to describe the transformation. The cane, macadamias, and tea tree are far above you. The sounds stop, except for the birds. The bright sunlight doesn’t even make it down there into the moss-covered rocks and twisty skyscraper trees.

Down Into a Magical World Out of Sound and Time

I imagine that’s how Middle Earth’s elven forests must have been in the mind of its maker. It’s like you’ve stepped into a world of fantasy. But you still have to look out for the area’s rather impressive selection of dangerous creatures.

Even grumpy bushbuck aren’t the safest, though seeing them gracefully walking down the narrow bush trails is still spectacular. Apparently there is some special limestone-evolved skink here that researchers are trying to pin down. I’m yet to find it. But there’s still time.

Maybe the dark, cold winter mornings aren’t the most enjoyable part of family life on the farm. But the beauty and diversity of this place makes up for it in a big way. And the aloes, now those are always a great reason to look forward to June on the South Coast, aren’t they?

Published here.