Summer has ended and we have been tipped into a strange season which does not have the usual attractions of autumn. On the last day of February and again on the 11th March we had some rain which promised the greening of autumn, but after that the winds blew and no further rain fell and everything just seems to be hanging in there. The days are definitely shorter though with the sun rising at 7:40am and setting at about 6:10pm at the equinox. The sun is moving northwards quickly now and it set directly behind the highest point of the western mountains at the equinox.
Fruits of autumn
The Hanepoot grapes were disappointing this year. They are usually at their best in February but were a bit late this year. The rains caused many of them to rot. These grapes, the remnants of the old vineyard which covered the whole farm, are sweet and delicious. They are a very old variety, Muscat d’Alexandrie, planted worldwide and one of the earliest grapes to be grown at the Cape. Here they are highly esteemed as a table grape and used to make fortified Hanepoot desert wine. Sadly very few new plantings are being made here I am told.
The quinces ripen in March. One of the real delights of KSU is an old quince boundary hedge which bears tasty if misshapen and sometimes stung fruit every year. This old hedge receives no water or feeding, but gives us enough fruit to share with friends and to enjoy in a variety of ways. Quinces are tasty cooked with lamb or pork. In this part of the country many housewives bottle them to serve as a side dish with meat. I make quince jelly and cotignac or quince paste which is delicious. It is tricky to make as the thick sugary paste spits as it boils and one needs to cover the pot with a mesh and to wear gloves and use a long wooden spoon to stir the paste. It is prone to catching/ burning at the bottom of the pot, so one has to keep stirring until it is ready to set. Once dried in the sun, cotignac will keep for a long time and can be enjoyed as an after dinner treat or served with the cheeseboard.
Persimmons also ripen in March. Gorgeous golden red balls of sweetness, there is nothing to do with them but to eat them fresh and as fast as possible or the mousebirds will beat you to it. While they are still firm they can be peeled and added to salads.
The first time I ever saw a persimmon tree was in November in Venice. The tree had no leaves, just beautiful orange fruits glowing against an old building and a blue sky. I was entranced and determined to find and grow a persimmon. Here at the Cape the trees still have leaves when the fruit ripens so they are not as visually spectacular, but the glossy green leaves do turn yellow and red before falling making for a very attractive garden tree.
Other unusual fruits that ripen now in March are cherry guavas and citrons. I have 2 small red cherry guava bushes. The fruits are about the size and colour of a cherry and taste a bit like a guava – one can see where the common name comes from. There is another variety which has greeny yellow slightly larger fruit, but I don’t have it. At KSU the bushes remain less than a metre in height and it may be due to our colder winters. I have seen much bigger bushes in Cape Town.
Citrons are another of those heritage fruits which can be found on some old Cape farms. Members of the citrus family the fruits have hardly any flesh. The large round fruits were made into a preserves or used for candied peel. I have 2 kinds; one with large spherical fruits with flatten bottoms and 1 with a strangely misshapen fruit where the segments separate. It is known as a Buddha’s hand citron and is of Asian origin. Both have a long lasting citrus aroma and can perfume a room. Citrons were the earliest citrus trees to be cultivated in the Middle East and are part of the Jewish festival of Suchot.
Autumn bulbs
March lilies (Amaryllis belladonna) are one of the joys of late summer. Indigenous to the Cape, these bulbs send up their flower spikes from the bare ground any time from late January, but here at KSU they only appeared in March and it was a very poor showing this year with only two flower heads. I am worried that the moles might have eat lots of the bulbs although they are very poisonous. They have a lovely scent and despite the common name are not lilies but part of the large Amaryllidaceae family. Once the winter rains come the leaves should appear and I can see how many bulbs I have left.
Nerine sarniensis is another gorgeous native autumn bulb. We grow ours in a pot and every year we have the great pleasure of their scarlet flowers which appear to be covered in gold glitter in the sunlight. This is another bulb which flowers while the leaves are dormant. This is also a member of the Amaryllidaceae and has the strange common name of Guernsey or Jersey lily. Sarnia was the Roman name for Guernsey and when this bulb was named it was thought to come from there. There are several other nerines that flower in autumn which I would love to grow, but none can compare to this.
Brugsvigia bosmaniae is another beautiful amaryllid with candlebras of pink flowers. Usually one has to travel to Niewoudtville to see the spectacular display these bulbs make in the veld after autumn rains, but this year I was stunned to find a hillside of them flowering nearby in the Karoo Desert National Botanical Garden in Worcester. What a sight!
Cape honeysuckles
Oranges, reds, yellows and pinks, what a kaleidoscope of bright autumn colours this shrub offers. Often taken for granted here at the Cape as it is so easy to grow, these plants signal autumn at KSU. Tecomaria capensis is not a member of the honeysuckle family, but is a great favourite with sunbirds. They can flower all summer long if they are well watered, but here we have the main flourish in March after the first autumn rains. I have collected 7 different colour forms; a dark red, very robust shrub whose leaves are a dark green; a bright clear orange which is the most common form of Cape honeysuckle and which I remember from hedges of my childhood in the Eastern Cape; a cross between these two which is orange red with markings inside the petals; a clear lemon yellow; a warmer golden butter yellow; a pink form and lastly a pale biscuit tan which is probably closely related to the pink form as they both have a tendency to walk /spread. The common combination of orange tecomaria with blue and white plumbago reminds me of the colours of the old South African flag.
Other stars of March
I wish I had shade to grow more Plectranthus. Anyone visiting Kirstenbosch in March will admire them grown en masse. They are great native plants for autumn. Here at KSU I have a few species grown as nursery stock in the hopes I can grow more one day. They are very easy to propagate from slips and I dream of a shady border of blue, pink and white P. ecklonii. Meanwhile I enjoy my few plants of the blue form.
Flowering in March this year is Aloe greenii. Is it a forerunner of winter aloes, or should it have flowered earlier? This aloe has a tall spike of subtle pink flowers which shoots up almost overnight from a rosette of speckled leaves. It is an easy aloe to grow and at KSU it grows next to an Australian wattle with grey leaves which provide a foil for the pink flowers and a little afternoon shade which it likes. Sunbirds also love this aloe and the flash of turquoise against the pink is lovely. A big bed of them would be a fine thing, but I only have 1 plant.
Lastly a favourite that has been flowering most of the summer and is an anathema to most people, Morning glory. How can anyone not admire these glorious blue flowers, thuggish though they may be?
March 2019 Gallery
