The Restory Retreat Centre

 The regal Crowned Eagle photographed by Erich Lamprecht. Ever since the Sunbirds* I take birds seriously. Especially if they pay me a surprise visit. So when a Crowned Eagle granted us a fifteen minute audience by settling in a tree no more than a 150m from us, I intuited that it was of some importance. As is often the case, I didn’t immediately know what to make of it. I was aware only of feeling noticed and nurtured by the mere presence of this magnificent bird sitting quite peacefully in full sight. Last week we were on a short and belated honeymoon in as near a perfect setting as we could ever hope for: we spent it at the holiday cottage of our friends Pieter and Linda in a lush nature reserve close to Groblersdal. All through the week we were treated to sounds and sightings of the abundant bird life we are familiar with in this area with its unique eco-environment of  high cliffs, streams and indigenous forest. A pair of Paradise flycatchers e...

“ I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” J.R.R. Tolkien The air around us here on the farm is filled with the sounds of birds not easily noticed. I do not know half of them. By the time I get to the bird call CD, I’ve forgotten how it sounded when I heard it on the way to the workshop. On good days I can tell you it wasn’t an African Penguin or a Cape Vulture, but that’s about it. And for the life of me I can’t make any sense from the calls I read about in birding books. A bird would fly right into my face crying “plooodleeoo” and apparently a shriller “kweeeer” and I won’t be able to say: “Watch out, you Blackheaded Oriole!” So, I keep listening to songs I know of singers I don’t. Sebastien, Matilda’s nephew who is currently here with us on Barrowfield, loves fishing. No, wrong spelling! He lives fishing – line, hook and sinker, bait, fishing spots, species, weather conditions, seasons, reci...

Photograph by Alan Manson Wakkerstroom, February this year. As we were driving into town that particular morning, there were so many of these falcons sitting on the telephone lines next to the road that we had to stop and look. They were unfamiliar to us. Eastern Red-footed Falcon was the description our bird book gave us. Nice. The insert in the wildlife program on SABC 2 about a month ago had more information. The Amur Falcon, formerly called the Eastern Red-footed Falcon, is one of the very small raptors, weighing the equivalent of about four slices of bread. But ironically they also have one of the longest migration routes of any bird of prey, travelling the 25 000 km from their breeding grounds in Northern China and Southern Siberia to our summer grasslands in South Africa. In the process they have to run the gauntlet of mass killings by nets in Nagaland in India and long uninterrupted crossings over the Indian Ocean. Source: avibirds.com We thought w...

I simply cannot resist running for my camera as luscious May parades her golden hues wherever I go. The potted lemon and the huge mulberry in my back yard are vying for my attention, each glorious in her own right. In a much loved fruit bowl, some ruby grapefruit (a gift from MaTshepo, the rain harvester who grows them organically and with only rain water as irrigation) glows against the warm wood of the table. At a recent drumming circle (our first) a fire dancer had me trying new settings with my camera, it being quite a challenge to capture the magical mood of the fiery movements. I seem to be soaked in yellow. Happy, sunny Yellow! Which, according to my copy of The healing powers of Chromotherapy (using colours to cure diseases) by Hari Om Gupta, "represents intelligence, wisdom and loyalty. Yellow has been associated with the divine symbols of creation since time immemorial." I'm not too sure what that implies, but it makes me feel happy and hopeful, even thou...

Borsbeeld van Nefertiti - Berlin Neues Museum Ek weet nie veel van die oorspronklike Nefertiti nie. Net dat sy Egipties was, dink ek? Ek kan haar natuurlik gaan Google, en daar is ‘n baie mooi gedig van Hennie Aucamp, wat George vir my sommer so uit die vuis uit aanhaal, maar sy is ‘n vae begrip in my kop wat grootliks net gekoppel is aan hoe sy gelyk het volgens oorlewering: 'n Statige koningin met 'n baie hoë hooftooisel en 'n mooi Egiptiese profiel. NEFERTITI Sy dra op haar lang nek versigtig Haar kop soos ‘n kruik wat kan breek En tereg – want haar Hollywood masker Het reeds in die een oog verbleek. Dis daardie “look” wat my hierdie Nefertiti laat opmerk het. Sy staan in ‘n effense hoek wat gevorm word deur die reuse klipformasie van die kranse by Linda en Pieter se naweekplekkie naby die Wilgerivier. Dit is vir my 'n hoogtepunt om uit te stap op die dek sodra ons daar aankom en in haar rigting te kyk. Sy is altyd daar. Met een arm gemaklik op di...

Photograph by Caryl Moll Lately the Blacksmith Plover without the right foot is often on the lawn. I stand and watch him peacefully limping. He inspires me. Facing life on such thin limbs and claiming his place under the sun without  a foot to stand on.                                                   George

Photograph by Dennis Laidler Dawn softly touches the little shoulder of the sleeping sparrow. Wakens him. Why would a new day want to start with a small bird singing?                                          George

On reading Matilda's encounters with the sunbirds again and being present at some, I am in total agreement with the wise who experienced before us. -           I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance than I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.                                                                     Henry David Thoreau How great the reverence I feel when a small bird accepts me as a friend.                Helen Thomson George

Red-headed weaver Photo by Matilda We spent the weekend with old and new friends at a game breeder's lodge between Brits and Thabazimbi. It  is in the North West Province of South Africa and slap bang in what we call the bushveld. As children of Africa it takes quite a lot to amaze us. Impala, buffalo, gnu (wildebeest) and sables are nothing new to us, even though we might not have seen them more than once or twice in our lives. Even a lion's roar at night might irritate more than awe us when we wake up to it deep in the night. But an Egoli Gnu and a Midnight Impala, now that is something to cause a stir among us. These are line crossings and much sought after because they are so rare: a caramel coloured gnu with a golden mane and an impala that seems to be in the shade even though it is running in the full glare of the early morning sun,  those are subjects to talk about, blog about, and to try and capture on film.  My attempts at that failed miserably. I d...