QUEEN OF THE NIGHT CACTUS

Queen of the Night (also known as the Torch Cactus) – a native from Brazil – used to be a popular garden plant that grows as large, organ-pipe like stem clusters that consist of many branches arising from a short main stem. This large, upright-growing, cylindrical cactus was probably imported by succulent collectors. It can grow up to 15m tall. I can attest to that for there was an enormous cluster growing in our back garden when we moved in three decades ago that simply could not be dug out by hand. Instead, we had to hire a large truck to pull it out with chains!

It is no surprise that this plant is so popular – especially in large, formal gardens – for it is very beautiful. During mid-summer, it produces large, funnel-shaped white flowers consisting of a long tube that widens towards the top. These fragrant, nocturnal flowers are up to 30cm in diameter.

As the common name implies, the flowers open at night and are usually closed by the morning, although they might remain open on cool, cloudy days. The flowers are visited by bees which, together with night-flying insects and bats, are responsible for their pollination.

Why did we get rid of such a beautiful plant? Mainly because people are no longer encouraged to have them in their gardens – although I note some nurseries still sell them. The Queen of the Night Cactus (and its many variants) pose a serious threat to the natural vegetation by spreading to form dense thickets – as you can tell from the photograph above.

Reference:

SMITH Gideon F., CROUCH Neil R, and FIGUEIREDO Estrela. Field Guide to Succulents in Southern Africa. Struik Nature Cape Town 2020.

ODD FINDINGS

Who says one has to travel far to spot strange and interesting things? Over the past while, I have come across several odd things of interest right here at home. The first ‘found’ me while I was working at my desk. Seemingly from nowhere, this spider dropped down onto the paper I was writing on:

Then, I was washing dishes when I looked out of the kitchen window – my attention was caught by something ‘solid looking’ apparently bouncing or hovering in one place against the wall of the garage. What could it be? Of course I had to go outdoors for a closer look. It turns out to be a rainspider web – nest might be a better description – made up of dried Erythrina leaves bound in silken threads and firmly anchored to the rough plastered wall. Whenever I come across webs such as these, I wonder why it is that I haven’t noticed it being constructed. I looked it up: they take only three to five hours to complete.

Here is a songololo making its way thrugh the weeds on my lawn.

So much for the creatures around. While wandering through our drought-stricken garden, I couldn’t help being attracted to these holes in the leaves of the giant Delicious Monster growing in a shady area.

Lastly – and I doubt if any of you would be expecting this – I happened upon this pile of copper coins (no longer legal tender) on the top of a wall along the side of our home. Who emptied them there and why? My grandchildren? It was an odd, yet fun, find which I have left untouched.

“RED” – CHARLES WOODROOFFE OULD

I can find no information about the poet Charles Woodrooffe Ould other than the fact that he was born in Grahamstown and was educated here before becoming a journalist and moving to England. I have no idea when he wrote the poem, Red, yet it resonates very strongly with me. My English aunt used to comment that South Africa was a ‘harsh’ country replete with thorns, hard brown soil and brilliantly coloured flowers. Even though she tended to visit my father during our winters, she found the sun bright and hot. I couldn’t appreciate this view until I was able to visit her in her delightful cottage in Dorset.

Our wild flowers tend to be vibrant: scarlet, bright orange, yellow, purple … although there are some fairly soft pinks, powder blues and even white ones. Our winters are the time to see beautiful aloes

and the spiky scarlet flowers of the Erythrina trees.

Poinsettias here grow into large trees. Although also not indigenous to this country, hibiscus flowers are popular garden trees or even hedges – especially in older gardens – for they do well in this arid part of the world. Charles Oud would have grown up with these flowers as a part of his early landscape:

RED

Hibiscus was red,

(It grew by the window),

And salvia,

Poinsettia,

The spikes of aloes,

And the Kaffirboom*

In flaring splendour.

Here there are flowers,

Frail lives of loveliest name,

Daffodils, primroses, daisies,

Fritillaries, buttercups,

But nowhere in England

That pagan colour,

Nowhere that red

That flamed at the window.

*  These trees are now called Coral Trees or collectively as Erythrina trees.

These words convey to me a longing for the bright, ‘pagan’ (as in untamed, wild) colours of South Africa. The flowers with the ‘loveliest name’ – all familiar in England – he describes as having ‘frail lives’ as they are unlikely to survive in the harsh environmental conditions he once experienced in the Eastern Cape. He longs for the red of the hibiscus ‘that flamed at the window’ (not indigenous) that epitomises the other strong reds he mentions.

Heimwee, or longing, can take many forms. During the nearly three months I spent in England decades ago, I began to tire of green fields, neatly trimmed hedges and the undoubted beauty of cottage gardens. Instead, I felt a deep welling of a desire to see brown grass and long thorns on trees. Ould missed the vibrancy of colour … other people miss the harsh calls of Hadeda Ibises in the mornings. Even though I left the then Eastern Transvaal when I was seventeen, I still miss the particular scent of the Lowveld region … longing can take many forms.

I WENT FOR A DRIVE THIS MORNING

I went for a drive into the countryside this morning. Mist touched the tops of the higher hills while all around me I could hear birds singing and I breathed in the herby aroma of the wild flowers. I saw Jackal Buzzards flying above me, Black-eyed Bulbuls drinking water from the potholes in the road, and even spotted a pair of Bushbuck half hidden … in the thick bush. The dirt road felt as if it would go on forever.

The condition of the road deteriorated the further I drove along it. I love the look and ‘feel’ of the indigenous bush crowding onto it as if it wants to take over the road and join up to form an impenetrable forest. Some sharp-eyed readers may spot an alien pine tree. There are far too many of them growing in this area – which is where I picked a seedling to serve as our Christmas tree this year.

You can see them invading this patch of indigenous bushes here. The tree with the odd-looking leaves in the centre background is an Oldenburgia (Oldenburgia grandis), which I have written about before.

Not far from here, I spotted three Grey Rhebok (Pelea capreolus). I returned, feeling ‘cleansed’ and peaceful; and quite ready to tackle whatever comes my way.

MEXICAN POPPY II

I admit to having wasted some time looking up the different thistles regarded as invasive weeds in this country. I know this plant, and I am aware that I have blogged about it before. Why couldn’t I find it either in Google images or in my guide to common weeds? In the end, I went back to my list of blog posts to find the name. I hadn’t been able to find it because it is not a thistle! Instead, the plant I had photographed is none other than a Mexican Poppy – which I ‘knew’ as a thistle throughout my childhood years. The spiky leaves are the only aspects they have in common. Isn’t it odd the way we sometimes revert to the knowledge we grew up with, even when we have since learned that it is not correct.

Mexican poppy – obviously a native of Mexico – is an extremely hardy pioneer plant which is commonly seen on bare ground, is drought tolerant, and is widely regarded as a noxious weed. I became familiar with it on my father’s farm, where it would spring up in fallow lands. The Mexican poppy (Argemone mexicana)* has a deep-reaching root system, which taps water from deep within the soil, making it a persistent plant which is not easy to get rid of. A related problem is that this root system dries out the soil during the time the farm land is not being used.

The hard bare ground in which this plant is growing is a good illustration of how hardy the Mexican Poppies are!

In addition, it is a prolific seed producer with a single plant capable of producing as many as 40 000 tiny seeds, most of which fall close to the parent plant. These seeds, as well as parts of the plant, are poisonous which is a real problem as they can contaminate crop seed. Fortunately, its bitter yellow sap makes it unpalatable to stock.

*For the purists, a note on its change of name: the Mexican Poppies with bright yellow or cream-coloured flowers used to be regarded as forms of Argemone mexicana. Now, however, the cream-coloured plants are referred to as a separate species, namely Argemone ochroleuca.

References:

Henderson M and Anderson Johan G 1966: Common Weeds in South Africa Botanical Survey, Memoir No 37 Botanical Research Institute Pretoria.

file:///C:/Users/Foxx/Downloads/MexicanpoppyArgemonemexicanacontrolincornfieldusingdeeplearningneuralnetworksaperspective.pdf

https://www.zimbabweflora.co.zw/speciesdata/species.php?species_id=235280