When the rain stopped on Sunday, we ventured out for an afternoon shookie* in Silvermine. (Our normal Sunday walkies had been postponed till tomorrow due to the incessant rain.)
There was water everywhere -
turning the roads into braided streams and raging rivers -
just the perfect terrain for a Scot!
And for fynbos. Yet another King Protea (Protea cynaroides) for the Food Lady. These plants don't seem to obey any rules about when to flower, as they sporadically bloom throughout the year in different parts of the peninsula.
It is nearly a year since Dougal died, and although I still miss him terribly, this little whipper-snapper Laddie has taken over quite a few of his roles, even rodent hunting in the fynbos. Apart from his stupid barking and his goofiness, I sometimes think that something of Dougal's spirit has got into him.
Mmm, maybe he's a bit more friendly that Doogs was. A meeting at the crisscrossing streams.
The sunshine conebushes were looking very golden,
and the rare Tree Pagoda (Mimetes fimbriifolius) very fiery.
The Food Lady shouted at me when I went to investigate the river - but I wouldn't have been so stupid as to get into THAT raging torrent. (Although she did remind me that she once had to jump into the stream in the Green Belt to rescue me and got her wellies full of riversand, but that was when I was young and impetuous and didn't understand about winter water.)
Then home to barking at the neighbour's dogs and starting to think about which team to support for the World Cup ...
but on second thoughts, sleeping in front of the fire was the best option.
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