Spring

8 09 2025
A glowing ember sunset – thanks to all the smoke.

What is spring?

Smoke. Everywhere smoke from incessant bush fires started to clear lands or smoke out bees or just plain carelessness. Every year Zimbabwe burns as does the rest of southern Africa – 760,000 sq. km in 2023.

Glowing ember sunsets and reluctant red sunrises. The latter so dull that one can, with binoculars, safely see the sunspots. Lots of photo opportunities to be had.

Dust. Everywhere dust. A patina of dust on my desk every morning. The dashboard of my truck covered in dust. Motes of dust in my home office – drifting lazily down in an afternoon sunbeam.

Wind. September is the month of wind. Driving leaves, bending trees and driving the dust. Leaves and ash swirling on the garage floor. When I sailed we always used to look forward to September for the excitement of the gusty weather. In my paragliding days we’d think of other things to do though the calmer days gave good thermic conditions.

Colours. The blazing colours of the new growth on the musasa (Brachystegia speciformis) trees. If one is lucky and catches a day of relatively little smoke it is possible to photo the spectacle. I never have. One has to drive up to the Eastern Districts to get the best displays.

Our Dendrobium orchid has been particularly impressive this year.

Cool nights and warm days. Yesterday morning on ART farm it was 5°C at 6 o’clock and 29°C by midday. My fleece jacket has been washed and hung up in the cupboard until April. I am still sleeping in the bed but October will just be hot and I’ll sleep on top.

New growth. Our roses are a blaze of colour (admittedly we have been getting professional help). Everything is growing fast in the nursery. A customer for whom we are growing cherry peppers commented that he’d never seen such good seedlings. I’ll take the credit…

Our roses are looking good this spring. Marianne has commented that we need a few more yellow ones.

Bees. It’s bee swarming season. A swarm has been in one of the catch boxes hanging under the eves of the second garage for a few weeks now. It will be collected by the Mike the bee man (he runs a commercial pollination service) and we’ll be given another jar of honey that we don’t eat. In the meantime they’ll forage in the garden and elsewhere before being taken off to work. We don’t mind being a bit of a bee holiday camp.

The Erythrina lysistemon (coral tree) trees has showy flowers too. This one was dripping nectar – literally!

Dry. Of course it’s dry and it will be desperately dry by the time the rains arrive in November. Our lawn is crisp. The flowers and vegetables get water but there isn’t enough for the lawn so it just has to wait. It will green-up soon enough when the rains start. It will get a little fertilizer help too and then it will need mowing weekly.

Then it will be summer.





Whither the weather?

23 03 2025
The sunrises over a decent crop of maize on ART farm. Not exceptional rains but enough.

It’s been a strange rainy season here in Zimbabwe. Our rains arrived pretty much on schedule in the middle of November but that’s about all that has been normal about them. The usually dry southern and south-western parts of the country have been inundated. The Bubye river, normally notable for it’s sand content has flooded. Lake Mutirikwe has actually spilled and the largest internal lake in the country (discounting Lake Kariba which is shared on the border with Zambia) VERY rarely spills. The Barotse Floodplain in western Zambia has lived up to its name and flooded and a Zambian-based colleague confirmed that most of that country has had good rains. That’s just as well, as it’s a major source of water for Lake Kariba which has been below generating capacity and has only been letting water downstream as part of an agreement with Mozambique on which Lake Cahora Bassa is situated.

The agricultural town of Chipinge is located in the south east of the country near the Mozambique border. Being on top of the escarpment on the edge of the Mozabique coastal plain, it gets a lot of rain. The climate is mild and the area is known for it’s avocado, banana, macadamia, coffee and other sub-tropical fruit farms. It’s also the home of the biggest tree in Zimbabwe, a red mahogany (Khaya anthotheca).

I was chatting to a potential customer from the area last week. Of course we discussed the rain. Up until December last year his farm had only received 200mm of rain. “Then it rained for three weeks solidly. Look, I’m not complaining but it was a bit intense. Now we’ve had 1,600mm!”

The rains here in Harare started pretty much as usual in mid-November but took a while to get going. The farmer on ART Farm where we walk the dogs in the morning took a chance by planting the commercial maize early but then had to keep it going with supplemental irrigation and even had to replant some lands when the irrigation couldn’t move fast enough. Elsewhere farmers were more lucky.

A decent crop of commercial maize. It’s seldom profitable and grown largely for political purposes – “Look, I’m doing my bit for the country”

The rains have been regular enough to encourage fungi growth. Mushrooms have been regularly cropping up in our garden. Were they edible? I am not at all sure. As one wag put it; “All mushrooms are edible, but some only once”. I do have a book but am not at all an expert in identifying them and I wouldn’t trust Google Lens quite that far.

Probably not Chlorophyllum molybdites as it doesn’t have a green tinge. Bottom right is Agaricus bisporus, the common domestic mushroom, but it’s rather old.
Small and short-lived, these (unidentified fungi) regularly cropped up in the same place in the garden after a decent shower. By the next day they were gone .

Weather apps abound but they are notoriously inaccurate, at least in this part of the world. Marianne belongs to a WhatsApp group that shares rainfall information and the variations in rainfall just a few kilometers apart were often stark. Whilst it’s tempting to attribute this to inaccurate rain gauges and exaggeration tendencies, it cannot account for differences in excess of 100%. We’ve had 648mm to date, in a “normal” season we’d expect at least 750mm, whilst guests this afternoon said they’d had over 1000mm some 30km away to the east. Bill, the owner of the rain gauge that recorded this, did admit on being a bit skeptical as to its accuracy.

A January issue of the South African Farmer’s Weekly magazine echoes the inconsistency of rainfall over small distances and the increased difficulty in making accurate forecasts

I am not sure if the weather apps are more reliable elsewhere in the world but it wasn’t unusual to get a high probability forecast of rain to be greeted with a clear sky when it was forecasted to be raining. It did on occasion go the other way – heavy rain when the forecast was for clear skies.

The grassland flowers have been spectacular this year. Admittedly the cosmos are usually spectacular so maybe it’s just my perspective. Every year I try to capture the intensity of the displays and inevitably am disappointed. Will give it another go next year!

Cosmos bipinnatus – possibly introduced in horse feed from Argentina around the time of the Anglo-Boer war in South Africa.

The yellow hibiscus below is indigenous to Africa, Yemen and India (and some sources say Australia) which makes me wonder if it goes all the way back to Gondwana, the super continent that began to break up some 180 million years ago in the early Jurassic.

Whilst not as intensely showy as the cosmos, the Hibiscus panduriformis is spectacular in its own way.

There is not a lot of information on the yellow hibiscus but it seems to be mostly nocturnal. The image above was taken at 6.20 a.m. and there is already a dead flower on the stem. From observing flowers by the road on the way to my work I know that by midday all flowers are gone. Apparently it’s relatively easily propagated from seed and cuttings so I might try establishing a few in the “wild” section of our garden.

As we approach the end of March we are unlikely to get much more in the way of significant rain though in April last year there was a 42mm on the 6th. This was unusual as it is normally a month of warm days and cool nights a plenty of sunshine. What most people would call perfect weather. We like a bit of rain with it too.





The end-of-summer garden

11 04 2021

Aerial view of part of our property and house

It is the end of summer as I write this, the rains have come to and early end, and the garden is drying out and losing the vibrant green. The borehole has sadly not recharged enough to offset the previous 2 years of sub-normal rainfall so already we’ve had to start buying in water. This season’s rainfall was about average at just over 700mm so it’s been a good year for the garden.

We have 3 rainwater tanks of 5,000 litres each so for four months over the rainy season we were self-sufficient and the swimming pool has remained full thanks to the water harvesting system from the roof (blue pipes). We are being a bit optimistic by leaving the pipes in place but for the last 2 years we have had significant rain in April. Curiously we have had municipal water this month, albeit only a trickle, it’s been enough to keep the swimming pool topped up to the point where it can be filtered. It’s not to be relied upon as drinkable so it’s just as well that the borehole flow is good enough to supply drinking water.

That’s Zak lying next to the corner of the kitchen garden. He’s my three-legged Rhodesian ridgeback. You can find his blog here. That’s the remains of a cardboard box he’s lying next to – a dog toy. Not his, he’s so over that sort of thing, but Roxy or Tia’s. They are the others in the Roberts’ pack.

The solar panels we added and then upgraded a year after we moved in. It’s a total of 3,300 W which is more than sufficient to power anything we need during sunlight hours and the batteries can easily carry us through overnight if the day has been clear. The mains power supply is notoriously unreliable during the rains which is also the season of most cloud so we make sure we turn the mains on at night, to recharge the batteries, just in case. We use approximately US$1 a day of mains electricity.

The solar water heater is essential for any household in this climate. It’s so efficient that at this time of year the water frequently boils during the day. We do occasionally have to boost the heat with mains during overcast spells but it’s a comparatively rare occurrence – get one if you can.

Fuchsia on the verandah

Fuchsias, ferns and other shade loving plants thrive on the verandah which we added after moving in. The previous owners had zero interest in the garden and the verandah was just a concrete floor and some ugly walls which came down as soon as we had the money. In Zimbabwe we have fantastic weather (contrasted by an equally dismal economy) so it makes sense to spend as much time outside as possible.

Palms were an early acquisition to block out a very ugly electricity supply pylon. They have grown well and mostly fulfilled their purpose.

The veggie garden was also a new development on a vacant piece of the garden previously occupied by the remains of a car port. The garden shed was a car workshop. Veggie gardens are a bit of a luxury given that we have to buy water in and they don’t like waste water as we found out. Still it’s nice to go into the garden and select a succulent broccoli for supper

Mantis on a rose

Most of the roses came with us from the farm. Unfortunately they don’t always get the attention and water they need but can be spectacular.

A swimming pool was not on the list of essentials when were looking for a property. They are nice to have and I use ours regularly in the warmer months but they are a money sink in chemicals and this one leaks which is a pain. Despite lots of excavation and probing I’ve yet to find a leak. It will have a cover on it soon to reduce evaporation.

The avocado tree is a bone of contention. It doesn’t produce very good avocados and I have the means to top work (graft onto the existing tree) some really good quality cultivars. It means that it must be cut back and then for a few years will cast minimal shade. Marianne is allergic to avocados so she’s only in it for the shade but we have plenty of other trees that we planted after moving in (14 though we have cut down 6 that were in poor health) that are shaping up well.

View of the house looking north

Top amongst these is the Acacia (now Vachellia) abyssinica which has grown at least to 8m in the four years we have been here. We didn’t realize that it had been planted in the soak-away from the servants’ quarters and it grew so fast that it its second year it was knocked flat by a strong wind. A strong pole support for a year saw a full recovery and it’s already showing the flat top growth typical of its common name “Nyanga flat-topped acacia”.

The mulberry tree was inherited. It is prolific in production and growth. The latter is easily controlled by pruning and whilst I do really like mulberries, by the end of the season I’ve had enough. There’s only so many one can eat.

If it weren’t for the cottage we probably would not have bought the property. The main house was not in a good state and we gutted it of the lifting parquet flooring, repainted inside and out and re-tiled the bathrooms. The kitchen is still waiting. The house dates from 1960 and was built by a friend’s father and uncle. The cottage is relatively new and was built by the previous owners for their parents. It didn’t need much renovation and we lease it out. We will possibly use it when we retire and rent out the house. That’s a long way off, one doesn’t retire early (or on time by First World standards) in Zimbabwe unless one is financially secure and we are not.

Sabi Star or Impala Lily (it’s not a lily)

The kitchen garden is the site of an old garden shed in which was stored all nature of old engine oils and unknown substances. We tried using the soil but it had been poisoned so gave up and now everything is in pots or a custom-built flower bed of bricks. It’s home to kitchen herbs, lavender and an assortment of annual flowers.

I’ve always wanted a water feature and so the fish ponds were the result. They were stocked with some small gold fish types and various other fish that I sourced from my friend Gary in the border town of Mutare. There are even some sword-tails that can only have got there by mistake as I didn’t buy them. They are supposedly tropical fish but have proliferated in water that can get quite cold in winter.

A succulent of sorts

The fish ponds are surrounded mainly by aloes and other succulents that are hardy enough to survive with minimal watering. They’d better be hardy as they are not getting much water this coming year.

The main succulent garden (top picture) is situated in a part of the garden that has truly dismal soil. It’s full of aloes and other succulents that must do as they can to survive. Aloes are indigenous to Africa and the Arabian Peninsula so they should be OK. This year they have put on quite a show so far.

A showy cluster of aloe flowers

Sunbirds are nectar feeders and normally love aloe flowers but so far we have seen few. Maybe it’s because the garden has only become colourful relatively recently. We wait and hope.

Cosmos

Cosmos are also left to their own devices in the succulent garden. So far they have managed well. They survive well enough in the wild in the higher rainfall areas of Zimbabwe. Apparently they were introduced in horse feed to South Africa during the Anglo-Boer War. These were snaffled from an uncollected customer’s order at the nursery. One of the perks of being the boss.

Daisy-of-sorts

This is another uncollected order. It’s a daisy of sorts, we’ll see if it has what it takes to survive in the succulent garden.

Hoverfly on a daisy

Perhaps not surprisingly the insect life in the garden is not prolific and yes, I am frequently looking for photo opportunities. This daisy is something of a magnet for hover flies. Superficially resembling a bee it’s known as a bee mimic of which there are several. I do make an effort not to use “heavy” agro-chemicals on the garden to the point that the roses have suffered so I put it down to the newness of the garden.

The lawn is drying off and will in time go completely brown. It isn’t of course dead – come the next rains it will revive remarkably quickly. The kitchen garden will take a knock but be kept going by the waste water from the washing machine. Other ferns and things on the verandah will be kept alive no matter what. We’ll just have to hope the next rainy season is a good one and recharges the borehole but nothing is guaranteed in this part of the world – especially not the weather.

A gazania in the kitchen garden – fate uncertain.

The neighbours – I haven’t mentioned them. The one to the west has a husband who is a retired international cricket umpire. She makes ends meet by growing veggies for restaurants from the seedlings I supply her. We’ve never met the one to the north but I do have his phone number. I cannot show their gardens for privacy reasons but you’ll just have to take my word for it that there’s nothing illegal going on that I could see which was just about everything from the drone’s vantage point.