Tag Archives: macadamias

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom

The “Oribi Mom” Column

Newspaper Column Regularly Featured in the South Coast Herald

Since 2020, this little newspaper column has become a standard feature in the Lind household. It’s an actual newspaper – the kind that rubs off black onto your fingers – publishing our comings and goings here in Oribi Gorge.

Part of the motivation behind it was to give the Lind children something in black and white one day after we get old and don’t remember all the details. The local community here also seems to have enjoyed the offering, which tries to share our story 400 words at a time. A few neighbours and friends have appreciated some of the humour, relatability, family drama, and close encounters with nature. International readers just gasp, wondering why we choose to live in a place where Black Mambas do.

Why Oribi Mom Started

Ambitions to be a journalist in the teen years were short-lived. If you’d asked then whether we’d like to just blog for a local newspaper whenever inspiration hit, it would have seemed inferior to “real” journalism. What a crazy idea.

Fast-forward to about a month before the entire world shut down because of the COVID-19 pandemic, and the need to share our experiences felt overwhelming. At eight months pregnant, South Africa’s hard lockdown had cancelled just about everything. Things got complicated, including the smooth, quick route needed to reach the hospital three hours away.

Instead of calming soundtracks and earphones, we had to remember to pack our eldest child’s birth certificate in the hospital bag — just in case. What if the police stopped us on the highway to ask why we were out of our home when the government had expressly told everyone to stay put. We’d even rehearsed the speech to say in between contractions. “Yes, he’s our son. Yes, we had to bring him with us. No, there’s nobody to look after him at home. No, we couldn’t go to another hospital because the doctor is at the one three hours away (another long story).”

We hadn’t found much online about going through a late-stage pregnancy during a global pandemic. Nobody else crazy enough to try it? So, we wrote one. And we’ve never looked back.

Thanks for reading!

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Well-watered Gardens Don’t Wither

“The boys are growing faster than the trees, but nothing is ever stagnant in this life.”

Farm boy at his waterfall in Oribi Gorge.

September 26, 2024

It’s been a bit of a dry season for us these last few months. While dry, almost hot weather is excellent for my outdoor exercise routine, it’s less desirable for my little macadamia trees, garden, and precious scarp forest.

The birds have been coming daily to ask for more water in the bird bath. The weavers, toppies, and drongos like to splash around in it, chasing any intruders away from their bath time. They cause quite a ruckus sometimes.

The bees have also been manic at the hottest part of the day. For a few weeks, I’ve had to close up the windows at noon to avoid a whole lot of desperate bees buzzing into the lounge or office.

A Not-So-Dry Adventure With Oribi Dad

The boys went down the trail with their cousins (and Dad) to see the waterfall last week. It’s still trickling, but you can now sit under the roots and in the cave behind the waterfall. You don’t even see those when the water levels are higher.

On the way, my seven-year-old had his first brush with a “wag ‘n bietjie” bush. The thorns caught him on the back, and he couldn’t escape until the adults carefully unhooked each barb, trying not to tear his jersey to shreds in the process. They’re nasty thorns when they take over these spaces.

Luckily, that huge storm we had a while back cleared a lot of debris and the annoying weeds from the streambed for us. The wind also relieved us of three smaller garden trees and some huge branches off the bigger ones. We didn’t lose macadamias, but some of that cane up the road is still lying on its side a few months later.

One waterfall jaunt at lunchtime involved skirting around hundreds of bees gathered at a rock pool. I wasn’t on that walk, but I got the lowdown from wide-eyed children who seemed to have grasped the potential danger of disturbing the drinking bees.

All of our children have been stung by bees, wasps, and hornets in their early years, and so far, it’s been okay. I was still glad to hear that they made a wide pass around the stinging honey producers, wisely heeding their father’s warning to leave the thirsty hive alone.

It’s Almost Time For Spring in Oribi Gorge Again

Once-a-week watering is all I could justify for my baby trees in this dry period. They seem to have come through the winter. Hopefully, spring shows up with lots of rain to take over.

The boys are growing faster than the trees, but nothing is ever stagnant in this life.

We only have to do what each day demands, whether that’s closing windows at lunchtime to save disoriented bees from getting trapped or learning how to identify and avoid thorny situations.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Not so secret visitors feasting in the macadamias

They’re fighting against crazy odds to survive as their natural habitat gets smaller.

Nyala bull. PHOTO WIKIPEDIA

July 15, 2023

It’s the third day in a row I’ve seen them. Three shining hazel-coloured coats with white stripes dazzling in the morning sun. They stand there in the macadamia grove, hoping we won’t see them.

Maybe if they stand dead still, we’ll pass by quickly. But they forget that their flopsy, large ears flick away the bugs all the time. And the shape of them stands out very clearly against the backdrop of natural forest that drops off sharply below them.

Somehow, they find their way up through the cliffs and forest and steep gorge slopes. They follow paths the rest of us might not even recognise as throughways, pushing past thick bush and sharp prickles and over loose rocks to get to where they’re going. They’re brazen about chomping baby mac trees, but how can they pass on such succulent treats? They’re planted neatly in rows and cleared of long grass. It’s like a smorgas board as winter dries up the natural vegetation a little in the valley below.

Longtime Residents of Oribi Gorge and Other Wild Places

Nyalas are, by far, our most beautiful natural antelope here. The bulls have the most impressive curling horns with bright orange legs sticking out beneath the dark, hairy coats.

The males are called bulls because their impressive size competes with eland and kudu and all these much larger animals. But the dainty females are called ewes, not cows. They’re not big enough to classify in the upper category like their male counterparts. At least, that’s what the game rangers have told me on trips up to Hluhluwe.

Lessons From Antelope? I’ll Take Them

Even if that’s a tall tale, I’m entranced to have these beautiful nyalas right here at home. They’re just a stone’s throw away from me, a human female who needs regular reminders that how others classify me is no concern of mine. It shouldn’t be, anyway.

These ewes-not-cows are still incredibly beautiful. They’re good mommies to the baby nyalas we see every season. And they’re fighting against crazy odds to survive as their natural habitat gets smaller and smaller thanks to development, mines, and yes, farming.

So, they can nibble our mac trees (Sssh, don’t tell the farmers!) if it means I can still watch them. Let them shining in the sunshine in fifty years’ time with the oribis, duikers, warthogs, reedbuck, and everything else.

Published here.