CLIMATE CALAMITY

Another perfect Midlands day…
(Photos : Leigh Willson)

“Without doubt, today was the crossover between autumn and winter.”

Summerhill is magnificent right now, clothed in a contrast of greens, golds and rubies, that splendid mid-point between the unrivalled spectacle of our autumn weather, and the onset of our winter chills. We woke this morning to another perfect Midlands day; the floors of the valleys shrouded in mist, and the Drakensberg stretching away for 90kms to Sani Pass. There’s no finer sight in all of creation.

There’s something though, in the cosmic wonder that engineers the metamorphosis between the rising sun and the crystallising of the dew, so we knew what was coming when Saturday morning shivered with the stabs of a Southerly breeze. Historically, we came to expect the first frosts any time from the onset of April, but in the past five years, it’s generally been somewhere between May Day and the 10^th of this month. The “Greens” tell us the delay has to do with the melting of the Arctic ice cap, but for those who are lucky enough to live here, the month’s respite means we squeeze another thirty salubrious days out of autumn; even then, when the first frost has arrived, there’s usually another fortnight or so’s “breather” before the mornings are regularly greeted with sub-zeros.

As we drove through the floor of the valley on our way to our first meeting at 6:30 this morning, the temperature gauge touched -3°, and we knew we were in for it. Winter was here, and in minutes the farm resembled the inside of a freezer box. The one thing about a frosty morning is that you’re guaranteed a perfect day when it’s melted, and as we pen this piece, we’re headed for the mid 20s on the centigrade scale. While there will be those who will always lament the beginning of winter, there’s one certainty about it all, and that’s that the scourge of African Horse Sickness is no longer. The frosts destroy the midges that carry the disease, and those regions that have suffered the odd casualty because of it, can sigh a collective relief. All being well, we can look forward to the lifting of our export restrictions, and to a new dawn for South African horses racing abroad.

www.summerhill.co.za

A GIFT FROM THE HEAVENS

Summerhill Stallion Barn under light Autumn Snow
(Photo : Leigh Willson)

“This fall is a godsend.”

We all know how destructive snow can be when it comes down heavily, as it did after the sale of two former Durban July winners, Tecla Bluff and Devon Air in 1996. It was as if the gods were objecting, and in parts of our district, the snow lay more than two feet deep. But when it comes in a few inches, as we woke to see yesterday morning, it brings the first moisture ahead of the spring, and it sprinkles our paddocks and pastures with a liberal dose of ‘free’ nitrogen.

We’ve mentioned it before, that despite the Midlands’ reputation for its beautiful indigenous forests of Yellowoods, White Stinkwoods and Cape Chestnuts, the reality is these occur only on the Southern and Western-facing slopes of the valleys. The bulk of the territory was hitherto great, open savannah country, with millions of acres of waving veld, perfect for the big grazing herds of red hartebeest, eland and the black wildebeest.

It was only when the European settlers first arrived here in the early 1820s that the trees you see so many of these days on your travels through our region, were first imported. Those that came from Australia were not built for snow, so that when it comes down heavily, the gums and the wattles take strain, and they shed their boughs, and often their trunks, by the drove. By contrast, those of European origin, the conifer and the cedar varieties, carry their burden with equanimity. In 1996, if you were driving past a grove of gum trees at the hight of that snowstorm, it sounded like the Great War’s Battle of Delville Wood, with the sound of gunshot banging off every few seconds as another branch or limb dismembered itself. Destruction was everywhere, and our workshop roofs collapsed under the weight of tons of the white fluff, squashing Mercedes lorries, Massey Ferguson tractors and any number of expensive implements underneath.

There were tribes of Englishmen trapped in the vicinity, those who’d attended the broodmare sale, and for them to tell us this was by far the biggest snowfall they’d witnessed, was some statement.

As for the horses, they are far from deterred; on the contrary, they’re invigorated by the change, and to illustrate this, we go back once again to 1996, when on the first morning, we brought them all into the stables. The following day, when we went out to gather them in again, they would have none of it, and we had no chance of catching those galloping around the paddocks, weighed down as we were by our gumboots.

For the time-being though, and for as long as it’s not too heavy, we can rejoice. This fall is a godsend, and will set us up for a decent spring, and a productive foaling season.

View more photos on the Summerhill Facebook page :

facebook.com/SummerhillStudSA

SPRING IN THE KWAZULU NATAL MIDLANDS

Please click above to view photos of the Midlands in Spring…
(Photos : Leigh Willson) 

“SPRING HAS SPRUNG”

We haven’t experienced as dry a winter since 1992 in these parts, yet it’s a testament to the generosity of our environment that, as dry as it is, the flora and the arbors of our area are as determined as ever to show off their spring finery. Birds are changing colour, antelope are migrating back to their traditional grazing grounds, and at last, the winds have arrived to spread their pollen and the seeds. Rain must surely be close at hand.

Tiz the season now, though the sardines came late, and we might also have to be patient.