On the farm, every day is different. Farming itself may be forged in routine but it is tempered by the season and unexpected events. This is the natural state of things, but it is how these speed bumps are dealt with that makes the difference between success and failure.

The savage wind, for instance, that blew on to the farm last month came almost out of nowhere and wreaked havoc. When it had departed much of that particular land of tobacco had had its leaves torn from the plant and lay on the ground. The only thing to do was pick up what could be collected and try to cure it, even though it was not yet ready for picking. One thing I knew, though, was that if it could be cured, my husband would be able to. He has been growing tobacco successfully for more than 30 years. And hand in hand with that, has definitely inherited green thumbs from both his parents. I know the garden would take on a much less haphazard aspect if he was to take it on. I am too inconsistent; I expect the garden to pretty much get on with it, in between short and furious bursts of activity on some project or another!

SLIDE SHOW – Garden rose and Duranta Repens, Southern Province, Zambia

In Zambia, it is fairly easy to have a nice garden because things grow so well. It does not take much; water of course and reasonable attention to the soil. And at this time of the year, an inordinate amount of weeding and grass-cutting with which we never quite catch up….

I do enjoy cleaning up the beds and finding some plants I had almost forgotten were there. In one bed, there are always Bracket Fungus which are simply my favourite. I love the smooth polished wood look of them and the fact that they are overhung with soft trails of soapwort and rosemary, lends to them more than just a touch of faerie. Some plants will take over if you let them – don’t we all know people like that- and you end up with the same plants all over the garden instead of the variety that you had before. Some plants like the Busy Lizzy are very successful at seeding themselves. Duranta Repens is another plant that colonises the garden, due I think to the fact that the berries are very popular with birds. Happily it is eye-catching and pretty, with great arcs of purple flowers and clusters of bright yellow berries. Commonly called the Butterfly Bush, at certain times of the year, it really is covered in them.

But not right now in the drizzly, damp weather we are having. Still most plants and trees seem to thrive in these conditions. Certainly the roses keep producing more blooms and so do the Spider Lilies.

SLIDE SHOW – Southern Boubou nest surrounded by green Frangipani tree leaves. Blue Waxbill seed grass construct between two Red-Headed Weavers’ nests.

It was that great Roman philosopher Cicero, who said if you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. I would certainly agree with him – although I would add a nice cup of tea to that – and of course birds. For me, I think that is what I like most about the garden; the variety of birds I see not only at different times of the day but also according to the month of the year, the season and the surprise visitor if I am in the right place at the right time.

Right now, for instance, two lots of Blue Waxbills have added their own wispy, seed-laden building constructions between some old Red-Headed Weaver’s nests which hang from the eaves outside my workroom. Meanwhile right outside the kitchen window in the depths of the Frangipani tree (which I planted far too close to the house) we have been watching the hectic behaviour of a Southern Boubou as he makes a nest, sometimes carrying such a beak-full of grass, I don’t know how he manages it. But he does. And it does not take him very long to build for his is no intricate, immaculately woven structure like that of the weavers. The Boubou fashions twigs threaded with a little spiders’ web into simple rounds lined with grass to make a cosy, crucible shape.

In a somewhat whimsical way, I feel this would be rather a desirable residence for me too; not only is it hidden in the green glow of a tree’s leaves, it is also overhung with that most fragrant of flowers, the frangipani.

January arrives rather quietly this year with a family game night and our traditional New Year’s afternoon tea in the veld, beside one of the farm dams.  The festive season is over and a new year begins. Attention is turned towards the school trunk.

Various new garments need name tapes and there is a gathering-together of supplies such as toiletries and tuck. Tuck, for those who may not know, is a word used to describe the extra food snacks that children take to boarding school with them. (It comes, I think, from the Australian word tucker, which means food.)  As always, clothes for school are laid out on the spare room bed before being packed and ticked off on the laundry list. The packing up of my daughter’s things always fills me with a mixture of melancholy, excitement for her new milestones and satisfaction once the job is done. Except for the wretched socks. We never seem to have the same number we had the term before. In fact, my daughter is not in the habit of losing her things, except socks.  In spite of being labelled, into the great sock abyss at school they go, never to be seen by us again.

This year, the usual pattern of the back-to-school season has been disrupted with a last minute change to the timetable and school is to start later than usual. I’m not complaining because our girl will be home with us for longer – an absolute bonus –  but this also means online-teaching for my teacher sister-in-law which is frankly awful news. Some changes to the usual routine are not welcome for everyone.

Routines are something I myself am not very good at. I hardly ever follow the exact same sequence in my daily tasks, except wake up, have tea, get up. That’s about as close as I get. I may still be in my exercise clothes when the man comes home for breakfast – especially if there is a craft project on the go. I feed my dogs in the morning, but it may be before my shower and it may be after.  Fortunately dogs don’t wear watches.

In Nature, routines and patterns are commonplace.  The Spider Lily flowers always appear almost as soon as the new year begins and in the veld, a wild herb with lovely violet flowers, delicate and beautiful – Murdannnia Simplex – appears in the long wild grass as it does every January. There are beautifully scented flowers on the wild jasmine and the veld, as is usual at this time, is green, green and did I mention green? 

Slide show below:- It’s January and Wire-Tailed Swallows gather on a power line, Southern Province, Zambia.

But some routines are learned, even in Nature. In the garden, the little Blue Waxbills have quickly become acclimatised to the fact that my husband puts seed out for them daily, and every day they arrive, a little heavier than they were the day before. Some days, honestly, they appear not to perch so much as squat heavily on their haunches, whilst they gobble up the seeds they like best.

The Wire-Tailed Swallows which we see almost all year round, always grow in numbers in January and some days the sky is filled with them as they dive and swoop towards their insect quarry. They like to gather together too, most often on the power lines near our house, where they sit tucked up close beside each other in the late afternoon.  From a distance the sheer numbers of them alters the outward shape of the lines, making them seem much fatter and bumpier than they really are.

Toadstools have now appeared and in my garden, this causes a certain amount of confusion since I often stop the gardeners from cutting the grass so that I can enjoy the fungi for a few days. This hiatus in the routine can be a head-scratcher for them. Still, I hate to see toadstools hacked straight away. After all, they do not live for long and for a few days I can enjoy watching them as they develop and grow. 

Slide Show below:- Toadstools which start off as cup-shaped and slowly expand to the size of a small dinner plate, growing in a fairy ring. I thought they might be an Amanita but cannot be sure. Anyone reading this who can let me know, I’d appreciate it! In my garden, Southern Province, Zambia.

One species has made its own pattern, coming up in not one, but two fairy rings, which are a thing of great joy to me.  I take great delight in them. I find a clutch of toadstools here and then another further around the bend. Even though the fungi are not evenly spaced, nor have completely closed the circle, if I look closely, I can see the ring, for the grass beneath them is much darker than that which surrounds the toadstools and this complete circle of dark green is particularly noticeable. It is fascinating and reminds me that the portion of fungus we see above is only a mere fraction of what lies beneath. But that, after all is pretty much Nature herself.

Nina Simone took the song “Feeling Good”, a song written in 1964, to new heights when she covered it in 1965. The lyrics match my mood, and the beginning of a new year with all its possibility ahead. Watch a feel-good video with a beautifully lithe dancer to complement the voice of the incomparable Simone.