The Piet My Vrou is back. That insistent three-note Whip Poor Will call started tapping at my waking brain around 5 this morning, and hasn’t let up. But a variety of more liquid warbles is also starting to cascade into the still wet and grey dawn air. Lovely rain again last night. The swimming pool is almost full to the brim. Also around are the red duikers , returning for regular grazing visits around the back gate and fence over the last few days, for the first time in two years or more. They have been wandering about Nomsa’s and Lucky’s garden for a few weeks, and we attracted them closer by strewing guava peels and old bits over the fence, as we used to do in our first seasons here, following the Nussey’s practice. That was until Leigh and Harry Voigt up the hill warned us that this was spreading alien guava trees in the indigenous bush via seeds in the droppings (“it’s called seed dispersal Granny,” said a knowing Lucy, when Eve tried to explain it to her). Also, the duiker had s...
Left wing commentary from the heart and the head