Hello!
Bees have moved into the roof, again, in three different places, and the laundry reeks of honey. More about the multitude of new residents in a moment.
This newsletter in danger of being overstuffed, if digital communications can be that way.
First, for the number crunchers: we’ve planted 850 trees. A bunch are over two meters tall; a smaller bunch have topped three meters. They astound us. A White Pear (Apodytes dimidiata) planted in September 2022 (pictured below) is one of the first project trees to bloom. Tree Number 850, the last of this season, is a Real Yellowwood (Podocarpus latifolius) and was planted to celebrate a wedding. They all shine with life in the winter sun.
Next, a tribute to generosity of the sort that Ferncliffe seems to attract like Tambourine Doves.
It’s August 2022. C from Seattle clicks on our website, donates two trees, a Pompon and a Forest Croton (both are doing splendidly, phew). She receives her first annual tree report in 2023, and more newsletters. And something about the combination of what we try to do touches her. She herself already volunteers at an environmental education organisation on Bainbridge Island. And she had swooped in, when a patch of Seattle forest was about to be sold for development, and purchased 14 acres to save the wildness from this predictable fate. Urban creep, it seems, is ubiquitous…
C from Seattle writes to us casually one day, asking if there is land near Ferncliffe that could become a corridor for wildlife ,or expand habitat for conservation. We tell her of two private properties that are already for sale – but are pretty crazy expensive – and also mention Glengarriff, the 12.5-acre property where our NPC is based and where Connor grew up. It is about to be sliced up and bits sold, because it is part of an inheritance that needs to be split four ways.
We meet C for the first time via Zoom in December 2023. There is a power cut, we tell her about Ferncliffe and restoration dreams by spooky candlelight. And again, C from Seattle is a kind of saviour. Some months later she donates a large sum to ensure FFW’s base need not be sold, and can be kept for rewilding. It is to honour her Mom, she says. What kind of magic is that!
As it turned out, C from Seattle first encountered FFW via a Facebook site called We are the Ark (Ark being ‘Acts of Restorative Kindness’; the focus ‘weaving a patchwork of safe havens for nature globally’. Spot the connection to our Forest Weaver mascot!)
C and her mother enjoyed viewing and discussing the ideas, posts and work done by the ARK’s many followers. Her mother was a great nature lover, C tells us: it is she who passed her enthusiasm on to her daughter. C happened upon a post made by Pietermaritzburg author and Awesome SA founder, Di Smith, shared by a third party to the ARK. In it, Di described some of our restoration work, clearing bamboo being the major challenge at the time! Remember this shot?
And so: we were suddenly a little over two thirds of the way to saving Glengarriff. Then another magnificent woman stepped in, from the Mapula Trust in Cape Town, to say they would contribute R500,000 to our Save Land cause if we can match it. And so that is all we need to do! Find, say, 1,000-odd folk who can contribute R500 each (or more, or less) to add this lovely 12.5-acres to Ferncliffe’s wild spaces for good. We have launched a BackaBuddy campaign for this purpose, and invite you to share the link far and wide to help us help Ferncliffe. Please.
Back to those bees, not just outside, collecting coral-coloured aloe pollen, but all too regularly inside, too. It has become very obvious just how light sensitive bees can be. It is part of their nature, they can’t help but fly like kamikaze pilots at lights left on at dusk or dawn. (It is remarkable how much time can be spent shepherding bees back outside, by switching on lights one by one in connecting rooms, or by reviving exhausted workers with honey water before sending them on their way.)
There is an analogy in here somewhere that seems to matter right now, in this time of climate chaos. Not so much that starting a restoration NGO can feel a bit like buzzing against a pane of glass, or even that a donor can be a saviour by opening a window. Maybe it’s a little more about how the things we as humans (or bees) are most drawn to, irrevocably, desperately – even something as incredible as light – can also be blinding. They can work against us. We need to evolve too, and think differently, and act differently to survive. And so, although Connor and I have always hated asking for help, we must do it here on behalf of this forest.
Thank you all for reading this, and for any acts of kindness to the natural world around you.
Next newsletter is back to what’s grown and what’s flown-by bounty, promise!
Janine & Connor
Read more about Mary Reynolds who started the ARK concept here.
Latest numbers:
Total trees planted: 850
Total work days created: 625, putting over R214,000 directly into workers’ pockets.
* We can provide Section 18A certificates for bona fide donations
* Help out financially if it would make you happy!
The BackaBuddy ‘Save land’ appeal is right here.
Click here for quick single or recurring donations to the general project (so great for paying the odd bill) or visit the Support Us section of our website for all sorts of options, including gifts.
* Please mail us if you’re a local and would like to join a Whatsapp group to be alerted as to Ferncliffe news and events. Volunteers are welcome.
Thank you for reading.
