Pieces of gold

The next day we set off early for Calvinia but first we had to make a stop at one of the local church halls to sample pancakes, Hertzoggies (little jam tarts topped with an egg white and coconut mixture) and to buy knitted gloves with the fingertips cut off to enable photography to continue in the cold.  Apparently owls sleep in the blue gum trees around the church and we were lucky enough to see one directly above us as we leaned against the car,devouring our sweet treats.

Next was the flower reserve outside Nieuwoudtville where drifts of orange-gold Gazanias were scattered all around.

We had to pick our way through very marshy and muddy fields to get to the flowers and looking through my camera lens instead of at the ground, I stepped into a pothole and took a spectacular tumble onto the field.  I later read something about porcupines digging for bulbs, but am not sure if this was what had caused the hole. Seeing I was down there anyway I decided to stay in place and concentrate on the flowers closest to me.

This turned out to be a good idea because I noticed a tiny flower which I would otherwise have missed.  To appreciate how exquisitely small it was, you would have to realise that it was about one-tenth the size of one of the Gazanias.

 

 

 Just as the eye needs a rest from all that orange and yellow you come upon clumps of white Gazanias looking pure and unsullied by mud or insects.

 

Finally, as we left, we came upon this koppie (little hill) with its balancing boulders formed over time by the cooling and weathering  of the of the magma forced up from below ground.

The twilight hour

And so we came to our last evening in Nieuwoudtville at that magical pink and gold time when people head for home and the animals settle down for the night ...

 

and the ducks play "follow my leader" home.

 

 A classic Cape country scene - windmill and bare tree branches silhouetted against the amethyst sky.

Tomorrow we would be on our way to Calvinia.

A last meander

A last saunter around the village back roads and a somewhat prickly incursion into a hedge garnered some worthwhile scenes.

 

 The last rays of sun warming an old farmhouse.

 

Ruins in the sunset

We had read about a ruined village just outside Nieuwoudtville and were intrigued enough to take the extra time at the end of the long day to go and take a look.  As we jolted along the corrugated dirt road we began to see the remains of sandstone structures glowing in the late afternoon sunlight.

A glimpse through spring blossoms to the fields of yellow cats tails beyond...

Brushing past the flowering branches ...

to see the sun glowing through a window in the remains of the tall gable.

A completely different view from the other side of the gable.

The village was built by early trekboers who found a large plateau of sandstone with several springs on it.  They built their houses from the golden sandstone and the beautifully packed and placed stones stand as a tribute to their skills.

 

And finally, the tenacity of nature can only be admired and marvelled at.

 

It's been a long time ...

I can't  believe that nearly a year has passed since I last wrote anything for my blog.  In fact, it was at the start of our 2008 flower trip and now we've recently returned from our 2009 expedition.  Every year we set off for a different area of the Western Cape to marvel at the incredible displays of wildflowers but this year we decided to do things a little differently and concentrate on the Nieuwoudtville and Calvinia areas for four days.

About 20 kms out of Cape Town we came across the first of many dazzling fields of canary yellow canola, contrasted against the vivid green of winter wheatfields.

At a pit stop for coffee at a roadhouse we were entertained by flocks of geese.  It's really difficult to photograph geese - they must be some of the most suspicious creatures in the avian world and never ever maintain a pose!

  A short way further was something we seldom see down in the Western Cape, living at the coast as we do - the mountain peaks were covered in snow.

 

 

On the way to Citrusdal, where, as the name suggests, orange, tangerine, mandarin and lemon trees aregrown, the weather brightened up and we began to see glorious views like this.