Tag Archives: nature

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: The Bike and the Buck

Sneaking up to a buck on a bicycle shouldn’t be this easy.

An example of a reedbuck common to the region. PHOTO WIKIPEDIA

 

May 10, 2025

It was very loud and quite startling. I was alone on a bike and quite near the edge of the gorge. I had come to find a few vultures but the thermals weren’t playing ball so early yet and I didn’t want to linger, just explore a bit. I like taking detours every now and then and I know the neighbours don’t mind too much if I leave only bike tracks behind.

I had just flicked off a tick trying to crawl up my leg because the grass can be wild here. Sometimes, when you explore, you have to bundu bash a bit. I don’t like cycling on grass that isn’t actually a dirt road, but there isn’t always a choice if you’re going off the beaten track.

The main reason I like to see dirt under the tyres is for visibility. Bike wheels aren’t very high if it’s a mamba you’re meeting all of a sudden. I only imagine this, of course, because I haven’t had that terrifying experience yet and hope never to find out how fast I can ride if one ever sticks its head up out of the grass in front of me!

Anyway, this sound I heard almost made me fall off my bike. I happened to be cycling up a grassy sugar cane contour and making hardly any noise. The large reedbuck in front of me hadn’t noticed me yet. It was casually walking up the same contour in front of me and I think if I was a hunter, it would have been dead already.

I got to about 10m from it. Suddenly, it realized I was coming. Just then, I was concentrating on seeing how fast I could go towards it, so hearing a very loud shriek was an absolute shock. I thought the buck was also scared, as it had bounded further ahead. Then, I heard it again as the buck looked at me, screamed, and started running again.

Did you know that reedbucks make that high-pitched whistling, shrieking sound? I do now. I feel quite bad for sneaking up on it, but I guess both of us benefited from a little adrenaline rush to keep us on our toes. Hopefully, it’ll be wiser now so that I can see it again sometime.

Published here.

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: Seven Birds a Week Challenge 2024 – Still Twitching

“Seeing a fantastic golden-breasted bunting two weeks in a row on our farm would normally have been amazing, but I can only log it once!”

Little Oribi bird watcher.

June 13, 2024

For about 20 weeks, I’ve been all self-important because my kind brother-in-law invited me into a very exclusive birding challenge. Me?

A committed non-twitcher who doesn’t really have time to devote to such whimsies right now? I said yes without hesitation because, well, I’m a bit competitive.

Enter the Birding Competition

It’s a WhatsApp group. It started with about 29 people from vastly different backgrounds – another mom, PhD students who live in the Kruger, a certain famous ex-weatherman, someone in Holland, stats enthusiasts, and so on.

All of us started together on January 1, united in one goal – find seven new birds every week that you haven’t seen yet this year. That’s one new bird every day. You can’t list the bird a second time in the year. Also, you have to have actually seen the bird in the week that you submit it.

For example, if you happen to see nine cool birds this week, you can only submit seven of them. To use the other two, you’d have to see them again the following week.

Easy, right?

Doesn’t Oribi Gorge have 250+ bird species listed? That’s at least three-quarters of the year I can stay in this challenge.

Wrong.

Stay Alive By Birding, Birding, Birding

The limit of being able to list only seven birds in a week and having no carry-overs makes this a lot harder to do.

Also, January is in South African summer, when there’s an abundance of birds on hand daily. By April or so, those birds have often migrated over to another country.

The group had submitted manually and tried to police themselves with not repeating birds. The integrity has been impressive.

My bird-loving brother-in-law has also committed time to do this admin every week, so he’s keeping things going in spreadsheets and automated bird lists.

Someone also added a stats site so that we can see cool figures, like the number of unique species logged by the group (750+ already).

I like birds. I like stats. I like travellers. I like competing. It’s fun.

But my time is almost up with not being able to travel out to birding sites. I’m too busy at home. Seeing a fantastic golden-breasted bunting two weeks in a row on our farm would normally have been amazing, but I can only log it once!

How long will I last in the 7 Birds a Week group? Stay tuned.

Still, what a way to spend these last five months. I’ve intentionally looked out of my busy life and noticed what’s out there under my nose – daily. It’s rather beautiful.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Live Each Day To Its Fullest

SCH Local News | “You have the right to stay in bed even if you don’t exercise it.”

Another bright and beautiful morning in Oribi Gorge. PHOTO BY HEATHER LIND

April 14, 2024 

‘Storms to persist’ the headlines said for Human Rights Day 2024. I looked outside and confirmed that the weatherman was indeed correct about the bleak outlook for today.

The first day of the school holidays was just a normal workday for me as a freelancer. There had been a lot of questions about my rights floating around my brain that week.

The Right To Just Be Left Alone?

A potential prospector has been scuttling around our beloved part of Oribi Gorge. The notice cited lithium, and a few other things, that a big yellow demarcated area on the map is assuming might be under the ground. As if we needed yet another hard thing in our lives after losing a beloved brother recently. Grief must wait apparently for community objections to said prospectors and lots of research about the area that we don’t have time to fit into already full schedules.

Three noisy boys running around and asking for food isn’t a great environment to be reading complicated 158-page documents about mining and laws and stuff is it?

“Pay attention to the details, brain.”

If I missed something about a loophole or water use license, would we lose our home in a few years’ time? What about the animals and birds and plants? What about the endangered oribi I admired in our little field of baby macadamia trees last month? Will those trees bear fruit in five years as they should, or will the dust from an open-cast lithium mine have ended their prospects?

It’s dramatic, I know. But that’s how it feels. Storms persist. They leave for a while, but there’s always another one. That’s life.

The Right To Continue to Live Freely? Maybe

What a privilege seven years in Oribi Gorge has been. I pray there will be 70 more, with children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren too.

We are born and we die, but in between is so much life to live and so much wonder to experience. Right then, on the rainy day during which our country was celebrating human rights, it felt hard to get on board with hope and freedom. Still, the Samangos were calling in the forest just 50 metres away to remind me that I didn’t get to feel sorry for myself in bed that day or any other day that would come after it.

Miners may come. Precious species may go extinct. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. But today is the day to get up and be human about it and to hope.

It’s our right and our joy to live each day to its fullest.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Nice Neighbourhood for Nature’s Best

“Hopefully, I’ll still be running when my boys are big enough to join me in our beautiful part of the world here in Oribi Gorge.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY 

October 11, 2023

I finally got back to managing a 10-kilometre jog the other day. My last one was about four years ago. That’s two babies ago, depending on how you look at it.

It’s amazing being able to run in my home neighbourhood with almost nothing but farmland, birds, and wildlife.
The occasional tractor and friendly farm worker pops up, too. But mostly, it’s just me and the sky, dotted with cane fire ash and gliding vultures.

The clouds sometimes blow way over my head faster than I’m jogging, which isn’t very fast. I even saw flying guineafowls this time after a taxi scared them out of the grass. Like the hadeda, they like to scratch around by the water catchments on the side of the road. I love their distinctive sounds and comical waddling.

Lots To See in This Wild Kind of Neighborhood

On a previous run, I’d seen about six hadeda ibises fly down from a pole and chase away a water mongoose. It ran off into the cane before I could get closer. They’re really huge, at least a metre long.

My quiet runs on the tar are quite different to the crunchy farm roads I usually use. You can actually feel the vehicles coming before you see them. There are vibrations, then a kind of whining sound, and then a whoosh as it zooms past.

The UGU bus is the scariest vehicle to have coming up behind you. It’s very loud. Though, the huge cane trucks can be, too. I always hope for the best as I try to jump to the side, praying that me stepping into the long grass isn’t going to be me stepping onto a puff adder. You never know, even in winter.

Jogging Alone? That’s Perfect for Now

My baby son is not at all interested in spending time with me out there in his pram. I’ve tried a few times. All I got as a thank you for the adventure was a screaming child.

At least running alone means not having to push the big pram up the steep parts. Maybe, when he’s big, he will run with me and try to catch the water mongoose and laugh at the doves giving the jackal buzzard the beady eye.

I’ll show him the monkeys stealing cane and the pairs of stone chats guarding their perches every few metres. Hopefully, I’ll still be running when my boys are big enough to join me in our beautiful part of the world here in Oribi Gorge.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Trying To See the Light During Loadshedding

“Just another day in paradise.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

October 7, 2023 

It was just one of those days today. Work ran late, spanning through three loadshedding sessions. I crawled into bed at about 11.15pm after showering in the dark. My baby woke up for the third time, his snotty nose making the feeding difficult for him. I could see his grazed eye and face by the moonlight, where he had launched himself onto the concrete earlier. Learning to walk is hazardous.

Down the passage, one brother was snoring like an elephant and the other was coughing again. It was so loud it just about drowned out the Scops owls and nightjars that have been calling so loudly since spring came around. The annoying roof rats are even louder at the moment.

Sleep Isn’t Easy When the Kids Are Sick

I slept on and off, but the baby was restless and the brothers were too. Then, at 1am, the baby’s cough got a bit worse. He vomited all over himself and my feather duvet.

I was so tired at this point that I just stripped him, threw the duvet on the floor, and found a blanket to crawl under with him. I would have chucked everything into the washing machine, but what good would that have done without power for the next two hours.

Only, it wasn’t two hours, or the regular four hours we’ve been having; it never came on. We woke up still in the dark three hours later with the whole area without power. No morning rooibos. No explanation.

There’s Power and Comfort in Community Life

A few residents managed to log a call before 7am, which was when the next four hours of load shedding was due to start. That puke duvet was still on the floor with the clothes and the normal pile of washing.

The fridges were off. The cellphones were almost flat. And the work day had started with laptops and Wi-Fi routers that couldn’t charge.

The baby and his brothers are still snotty. And the baking we did for school (between load shedding stints) was left behind in the confusion of the morning. That meant a turnaround and a little person very late for school.

But we did get him to school.

The dogs and kids are fed.

The sun is out.

And a certain van for electricity repairs has been spotted in the area.

There are also a few baked goods left to reward us for enduring all our challenges this week. We’ll make it to the weekend.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Mammal Watching Dreams That Could Come True

“When we came home to South Africa, it was like a warm hug, filled with hadeda and trumpeter hornbill cries, screeching francolins and twittering prinias.”

Mammal watching fun.October 3, 2023

Did you know that mammal watching is now a thing in the world? Not the safari kind we’re so privileged to have as part of growing up in South Africa, but the cousin of bird watching with lists and databases and counts and tours.

I love birds, but I’m not technically a twitcher that’s accumulating species on my life list. I haven’t seen even 1,000 of the 11,000 bird species that we have on the globe. Maybe one day.

But, this mammal watching thing is another exciting discovery for me. There are around 6,000 mammal species on earth. Lots of them are hundreds of different rodents and bats, but many of the big ones are more well-known.

South African Birds and Game Reserves Are Truly Something  Special

I’ve always loved our trips to game reserves. It’s the one thing I sorely missed when we lived in South Korea for a few years.

Aside from the magpies that supposedly eat children’s teeth (apparently, the Tooth Mouse doesn’t know where Korea is), there wasn’t much going on in the way of wildlife in South Korea. Very few birds. One dead snake. A lot fewer insects than I’m used to seeing at home, too. It felt a little sterile at times, and not in a good way.

When we came home to South Africa, it was like a warm hug, filled with hadeda and trumpeter hornbill cries, screeching francolins, twittering prinias, and the boo-boo-boop of the beautiful bou bous that like to wake up my babies in the late afternoon.

I missed our butterflies and our funny-looking grasshoppers. I missed the duikers that graze on the pavements in the cities, and the knobly warthogs that zip around with their tails up through the farms. There’s so much life here.

All We Need To Do Is Start Looking Around

Investigating the mammal watching thing has also made it even more exciting to realise how many animals are right here. South Africa has a ubiquitous striped weasel. It’s everywhere but nobody sees them much because they’re shy. Just imagine what we could find in our slice of the gorge here with some heat sensors and very large camera zooms!

Aside from more large and venomous creatures than we might care to admit, there may just be hundreds of mammals all around us, hiding in plain sight. I’ll try to open my eyes a little more while I’m running or out with the dogs at the waterfall. I’ll listen for the rustling and look up when the puff backs chirp their alarm calls. That’s how they told us about a boomslang the other day.

I could see 6 000 species of mammals and 11 000 species of birds in my lifetime. How amazing! All I need is free time, a boatload of money for travel and equipment, and a bit of luck. But maybe I’ll start with a subscription to National Geographic or something. And some more walks down into the gorge forests below my house.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Up Close and Personal With Nature

“How wonderful that we get to see these creatures right here at home, sharing this space with us.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

 

September 18, 2023

How close have you stood to a buck? Could you see the roughness of its coat shimmering in the sun as it twitched its nose at you? Could you see the concern in its bright black eyes at your proximity? I’m always surprised at how big some of them are.

The other day, I was running through the macadamias. I was on a little detour from my usual route, just on a whim. Why not? The sun was out.

A Surprise Encounter Could Have Gone Either Way

A few kilometres further, I was following the fire break’s very uneven path. It made it hard to run fast, but at least the cliffs and river made for gorgeous views. I was trying to find my way back to the main farm road to head home. I knew the general direction but it’s not easy to see over hills and around big trees for grass tracks.

Going up one steep, I had my head down. Admittedly, I was puffing and panting a bit at that point. So, I didn’t see the huge reedbuck in the bracken right next to me. It must have been lying down. And suddenly, about two metres from me, it jumped up and charged, thankfully in the other direction.

As its hooves thundered, all I could think of was how grateful I was that it wasn’t a bushbuck. Those charge at you – ask one of our neighbours who landed up in hospital!

The Antelope’s Size Up Close Is Breathtaking

I remember being in the Drakensberg as a child and suddenly finding myself at very close range to a few eland grazing by a little stream. The beasts were absolutely gigantic. I was standing near enough to see their ears flicking the flies away and the ticks on their rumps.

As an adult, I’d be standing quite a bit further away I think. Those horns and heavy bodies aren’t worth a selfie. But they’re so beautiful. I see them down the road here every now and again, but always at a distance on this game reserve’s hills.

How wonderful that we get to see these creatures right here at home, sharing this space with us. I think it might be a good idea to stick to the main roads on most other days, though. ‘Trampled’ isn’t something I hoped to have on my tombstone.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Ever-Changing Gardens for Those Who Walk in Them

“It’s time to prune in order to grow.”

Lavender in bloom.

 

September 5, 2023

The thorn tip that attacked my wrist is finally out, and the scratched-up wrists and arms are almost healed already. This garden is thorny, and I’ve left it quite a long time to itself with small babies growing in me, and then being on my hip these last few years.

But this time of year is the final opportunity to get things chopped and pruned and weeded while everything is dry and dying. It’s easier to pull things out. It’s also easier to see into the dense bush and tree in case there are one of the many venomous snakes hiding. We have so many here.

Blood, Sweat, and Some Tears in Our Thorny Garden

So, bleeding arms, blisters, and cut up shins are just par for the course when trying to handle lantana and the many other thorny things I’m trying to get under control.

There’s even an extremely poisonous vine that pops up, with three pronged leaves. Apparently, there are a few species around. The ones with purple flowers are okay. The orange-flowered ones have poisonous fruit and leaves, so even pulling them out is a bit treacherous.

There’s always a bit of sadness, too, at seeing the gaping holes in the garden where the weeds were or where we chop it back. But come summer, that fills in rather quickly. I’m almost through the blackjacks here now. But the moon-shaped burrs are still going crazy. They’re much harder to pull out than blackjacks, too. We’ll get there.

Looking Back, It’s Worth It

If I look back at the garden we arrived to six years ago, or rather the dense, weed-filled bush that surrounded the house, a little bit of pride pops up at how far it’s come. It’s still bushy and rough, but it’s beautiful to me. It’s growing and changing. It’s thinning out here and there and showing some results for all my hours of work.

Like our family that is growing up faster than the weeds, it’s worth the struggles and the blood. And in twenty years or so, we might look back in wonder at all the progress. I hope so.

Published here.

Oribi Mom, Travelinds

Oribi Mom: Back To Paradise and Still Captivated

“If you ever go there, be sure to leave time for a long walk.”

Oribi Mom at Mabibi in iSimangaliso Wetland Park.

August 3, 2023

It’s been three years of this COVID stuff, with two sons arriving amid the chaos. With all that’s happened, we’ve also had to postpone a holiday we’d planned for July 2020.

Instead of COVID lasting a few weeks, it was still around the next year, so we didn’t go in 2021 either. Then, Boy Number Three made an entry in 2022. And now, here we are, with a one-year-old, his two brothers, and finally a three-year-old booking we have been able to actually use.

A Special Place for Our Growing Family

The place is a very special one for us as a family. It’s where we met 22 years ago as starry-eyed teenagers. It’s also where he proposed to me six years after that, when I was finally old enough to get married. So when we go, there’s always some history to it.

But it’s truly a gem of a beach destination on the North Coast. It’s the type that is beautiful just the way it is. It doesn’t need amenities to cover up litter or dirty sand or cloudy water. It has pristine soft white dunes, crystal clear water, and kilometres of space with not a soul in sight. Perfect.

Beautiful Beach Hours Above and Under the Water

The snorkellers in our little group saw rays, crayfish, lionfish, and all sorts of other interesting things in the water. The beachgoers admired the performing whales constantly passing by. And I found five turtle nests, marked by the dried eggs fanning out from the exit point on the dune. Super exciting.

In twenty years, not much has changed there except the popping up of a very exclusive lodge right below the campsite. The camp has also erected three little cabins with canvas walls, giving us the option to have our own kitchen and shower. It’s glamping compared to the outright campsites, but just as immersive in nature.

I like the cabins with small children, but we let the bigger boys camp for two nights just to have the memories. The kids also hopped around from campsite to campsite, visiting their cousins and friends who came with us for laughs, toasted marshmallows, and lots of sand castles. They even found some of the endemic bird species in the area, saw giraffes right on the main road, and watched the sunsets over Lake Sibaya. They heard the bushbabies and elusive Green Malkohas too.

Hopefully, they’ll always remember it as the best beach ever. That’s how we think of it. If you ever go there, be sure to leave time for a long walk. You might just find one if the giant cowries my love used to propose to me all those years ago. Best ringholder ever.

Published here.