It’s a beautiful day here at Leshiba and I’m feeling inspired. When I was a teenager, my dad, probably concerned about whether I was taking life seriously enough or perhaps too seriously, introduced me to Lao Tzu’s saying, “If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.” It’s something that has stayed with me my whole life but it’s never easy to take a leap of faith and try something different.

Living here gave me the chance to live a life I had never conceived of. I thought I would travel the world and become a writer in a New York apartment or have a bohemian existence in a villa in the South of France. Then life happened. I fell in love and came to live on top of a mountain (I’m scared of heights) in the middle of the bush (spiders terrify me), surrounded by wildlife (I still climb under the seat of the game vehicle every now and then) but I embrace this huge gift I’ve been given.

This mountain has an incredible way of changing people. Once you’ve conquered the roller coaster ride up, the quiet beauty and magic of our valley up here on the plateau, works its way into your heart and gives you a profound sense of peace. It’s recognizing the power of the mountain that has led us to the next step on our Leshiba journey.

Heading away for a bush experience on top of a misty mountain, far from everywhere, has enormous appeal, I know because I come home to that feeling every afternoon when I return from taking my son, Finn, to school. Add to that the chance to discover more about yourself and your connection with nature, mysticism and being and you have a heady mix of adventure and spirit. So, I’m officially declaring the ribbon cut on our new path!

We’re offering a selection of workshops and retreats, each one aimed at enchanting, inspiring and challenging you to change your own direction…

To delight your spirit explore more….

We have a Creative Writer’s workshop coming up in June. Dorian is Oom Schalk Lourens come to life. He’s Wordsworth and Whitman, a storyteller and magician of words. Whether you’ve never put pen to paper or have a manuscript 1000 pages long, Dorian will take you on a writing adventure. Leshiba has every ingredient for a creative burst of inspiration – It’s time to tap into your basic human wildness. Join us, surprise yourself and let your words find wings.

It has been very hard to write about my mom and place her in the past tense as I am still struggling to believe that she is no longer physically present. It is also difficult to try and put into words the ‘lightness of being’ that Gilly was in our lives. There are few people on this earth who have the kind of heart, kindness, generosity, patience, understanding, trust, empathy and unconditional love that she had, not just for us but for life and for others.

I have come to call these traits ‘Gilly’s Way’ and they are characteristics that we are all attempting to incorporate in to our lives. It is with awe that we regard Gilly and with admiration as to how she managed to do everything that she did and always with the biggest smile. She looked at the world with amazement and would burst into song or start espousing poetry, inspired by everyday wonders. Lying in the sun, reading a book to one of her adored grandchildren, identifying a tree or flower, dancing in the rain, just seeing us when we hadn’t seen her for a couple of weeks. She could never do enough to try and make sure we were all happy, always offering her ear, a true listener who heard what we tried to say without passing judgement. Mom offered sage advice – taking into account the big picture and having an innate trust in the universe that helped us see a way forward. 

People who only met Gilly once have written to us to say how she touched their lives in that one encounter. She had that effect on people as you couldn’t help but feel the genuine warmth that emanated from her. Almost 300 people came to her farewell including all the security guards from the apartment building where she lived, she knew them all by name and knew their life stories – this was her way. A beggar on the street, whom Gilly passed by regularly, still lights a candle for her and weeps when you mention her name. Gilly had the gift of always speaking with a smile in her voice, which stopped you in your busy day and made you smile back.  She magically made you feel seen and acknowledged – something rare in our busy pressured lives…

Mom gave me strength and courage to face each day. When I felt like I couldn’t take another step out of the car or get another thing done, she would find a last bout of energy and bound away to finish the task. She would still skip and laugh and swing on gates and we would hold hands and delight in the fact that we could still feel like kids. Her sense of humour saw us through everything. Sometimes she giggled and at other times she laughed so hard I would need to remind her to breathe, her mouth wide open and her eyes tearing up with mirth. 

There is so much I miss about her but most of all I miss just knowing that she was in the world, an angel among us, always there. 

May we all learn to have more of Gilly’s Way. May we be a bit kinder, a bit more generous of spirit and a bit more present in our everyday lives. May we laugh more, trust more, tolerate more. May we smile when we speak and appreciate every little thing of beauty in our incredible world. Mostly we need to worry less about things that are unimportant and love more. 

Thank you mom for your beautiful way…it is the greatest gift you could ever have left us. You always said that you ‘live on in the hearts of those who love you’ and we hold you so close in ours.

Gilly had a great love for Leshiba. She would hike for hours with dad, appreciating the magic in everything she saw. She adored the staff and they adored her back. Most of all she loved to sit quietly in a beautiful spot – enraptured and inspired and write poetry. The essence of her wonder is reflected in the poem below.

LESHIBA

Oh Leshiba you sing to me of sandstone rock

And mountains clad in green,

Of earth red soil

And secret streams and waterfalls.

You sing to me of mystical mornings in the clouds,

And robins heralding the dawn,

Of orange moons and stars

And sunsets colouring the sky in rays of pinks and mauves.

Oh Leshiba you sing to me of forest walks

And leaves bedecked with old man’s beard;

Of spiders webs strung inbetween like gossamer on fairy wings;

And lichen fossilised in stone.

You sing to me of the flowering Cape Chestnut tree

And blossoms on the Wild Pear;

Of ancient figs inviting you to climb their boughs

And share their healing energy.

Oh Leshiba you sing to me of sheltering caves hewn by wind and rain,

Whose walls tell tales of those who passed here once.

Of cliffs where eagles wheel and soar and swoop

To snatch their unsuspecting prey.

You sing to me of a myriad coloured butterflies,

And the francolins raucous warning cries,

Of families of guineafowl strutting importantly along

And the liquid melodious song of the Blackheaded Oriole.

Oh Leshiba you sing to me of whispering grass,

Where antelope and zebra pass and snakes slither shyly away;

Of waterholes where rhino wallow and gentle giraffe

follow you through big brown eyes and curly lashes.

You sing to me of the elusive leopard, mongoose and elephant shrews

And leguwaans lazing in the sun;

Of monkeys shouldering their young

And baboons that bark and mark their territory.

Oh Leshiba you sing to me of roads that lead to mountaintops

Bedecked with sculpted Kiaat trees and proteas in bloom;

Of vygies richly painting the stony ground

And where on a clear day you can see forever…

By Gill Rosmarin

Jenny travelled backwards and forwards over the past year, grabbing a week here and a few days there, to see the stonework put in place. Her designs, thoughtfully conceived and meticulously put together, the pebbles sorted and placed in piles according to colour and size and each one laid with care, have put the finishing touches to the Village and complemented the artworks of Noria Mabasa and Thomas Kubayi. We are delighted, thanks Jen!

We would see what we could give in exchange for whatever it was that people could bring to us. So it happened that Jayne Hey, a previous guest and daughter to a friend of the family in the UK, suggested that in exchange for board and lodging for 3 months, she would offer what she could to Leshiba. Jayne has completed a Postgraduate Certificate in Transpersonal Psychology and Consciousness Studies, is fluent in sign language and a Reiki practitioner and she has put together a guided meditation weekend that we are offering in April and May. Jayne has been helping out at the Lodge, assisting with staff training, creating new systems and improving on old ones and lending a hand wherever she can. You can read her blog at.

“It’s raining it’s pouring….”

End of January

The weather report mentioned a good chance of rain but we had sat up in hope before and been let down when the winds would suddenly arrive and blow the clouds away. I had done my annual rain dance with Tina and Pete and begged the heavens to release us from the drought but to no avail. Then one night, at the end of January, we heard the tell tale pitter patter on the thatched roof and waited…

By early morning it was starting to pour down. Our spirits soared and we ran out to empty the guage. It was overflowing and time to rejoice. By midday, we knew this was not normal rain and as we drove round the farm we realised we were witnessing flood conditions. It rained and rained and rained and 310mm later in less than 18 hours, we sang with relief. The drought was definitely over.

Discovery and wonder

Our dear friend Jenny Schneider, had come to visit with her friend Anke from Germany. I picked them up from Mwedzi and we drove around bearing witness to the intensity of the storm. Grassy plains became rivers and streams poured down the mountainside wherever the ground formation allowed. Our deep gully, which runs from our house down to the wedding tree, ran for the first time in the history of the farm, dating back as far as the staff who had lived here all their lives could remember. Sweetwater Falls gushed down the mountainside and as the dams overflowed, a new river was formed tearing down the valley in all its ferocity, taking out ancient reed banks and peet moss, ripping trees and gouging a course through the vlei, leaving destruction in its wake. We were in awe.

And then we realised the implications…would there still be a road at the bottom of the mountain?

We had two other guests in the lodge and more due in from the Waterberg. A phone call from the guests coming in saw Pete and I go down the mountain to check the small stream that flows from the west. When we got there, we took one look at the guests parked on the other side and with hand motions indicated that they should head home as no one was crossing the raging river that was between us.

We headed around the field to a back up crossing, only to find that this looked worse than the one above. The water pipes that had been laid beneath the causeway were crashing into the sand river along with boulders and debris and we marvelled at the sound of the rocks tumbling and booming beneath the force of the water. Pete and I looked at each other and realised we had more of a problem than we had thought.

Rescue and repair

Whilst our guests settled in for another unexpected night, Peter called all the staff who had returned home for the weekend and arranged to meet them at the bottom of the mountain. He headed off at first light and with Finn’s help and Jack’s (a new staff member), began packing rocks to try and create a new crossing. The rest of the staff arrived and everyone threw themselves in to the task at hand. Slowly, slowly, the pile of rocks began to emerge from the rushing water and eventually there was enough of a walkway for our guests to walk across.

Meanwhile, back at the lodge…

I had called search and rescue who said that they could get to us eventually but were first busy rescuing over 800 people from the flooded Musina area. So we gave up on that idea. Two of our guests needed to urgently get back to their 4 small children and Anke had a flight booked back to Germany. Jenny was fine to stay on for a few days to see how things panned out and to be able to drive her vehicle back to JHB. So with my wonderful friend, Annette’s help and her internet connection, we managed to get Anke on a flight from Polokwane to JHB. Avis did not have a vehicle for her but our angel, Lungile, at the Louis Trichardt branch, offered to have one of her drivers give Anke a lift at no cost. Our other guests could not find anyone with a 4 x 4 to come and fetch them so it was Bas, (Annette’s husband and our great friend) to the rescue!

Plan in action

Back down the mountain, Bas had arrived and with the help of some gum boots and a helping hand from Pete, all the guests made it safely across and were on their way home. We all added our stones to the pile and the following day, Pete and the staff finished off the rocky crossing and drove across to wide applause. We were no longer an island!

March 2013

The floods brought huge relief. The grass grew and seeded, the trees sprouted shiny new leaves and began to fruit, animals lifted their heads, birds began to sing and everyone found their gaiety once again. Our dams are all full. Tolkien’s dam is wonderful for swimming in and the children have just got back from an afternoon dip…Africa, in all her wild ways, still knows how to surprise us. 

Pictures by Jenny Schneider

Without fail, for her whole school career, Erinn has asked us every single holiday if we haven’t found a baby animal that needs rehabilitation. Every holiday we laugh and say, ‘It is survival of the fittest out there’. We have had various babies come through our lives over the last 20 years, a bushbaby or 3, a new born bushbuck called Bambi, a baby zebra, a baby wildebeest, a baby dassie, a Rameron pigeon, snakes, chameleons and shrews. Some have survived but some have broken our hearts. To take the place of a mother is the hardest thing in the world to do.

Then, just before the end of term, we had a baby squirrel come knocking at our door…

Knock Knock

Peter looked out of our dining room French doors and there was a tiny squirrel, hands against the glass, staring at it’s reflection. Our two cats were around so as quickly as he could, he grabbed the baby and seeing it’s mom on the roof, threw the little one up in the hope that she would grab it and run. It wasn’t meant to be. The baby tumbled down and in a move Jonty Rhodes would have been proud of, Peter managed to catch it inches from the ground.

Alone in the big wide world

Not deterred and determined that the squirrel should be reunited with it’s mother, Peter put the little thing out in the bush where the mother, now in the tree above it, could make a plan to gather it up and scamper away. We all watched patiently and eventually, seeing that the baby was no longer there, assumed the mom had done her duty.

Alas

Then a few hours later, Arwen and Patches looked perky and following the gaze of the cats, Peter discovered the baby had crawled all the way back to the house and was cowering beneath a rock at the foot of our stairs. It was time to intervene. We brought it inside, gave it some milk in a dropper, which it hungrily lapped up and settled it for the night. With the girls back home in 4 days, I took it to the vet to make sure it would survive long enough for Erinn’s dream to come true and on Monday the 18th of March, we brought our new baby home.

It’s a squirrel’s life

Erinn and Kai have taken turns bottle feeding the little guy who is so spoilt. Finn loves to hold him and speak ‘squirrel’ and he gets a hot water bottle and milk throughout the day. He is now eating seeds, nuts and corn, loves being scratched under his arm and snuggling up in a pocket or warm spot. We have moved him in to a large cage during the day where he has a big branch to climb on and within the next month, we will release him to go and find a mate and live happily ever after.

Squirrels

Squirrels are rodents belonging to the family Sciuridae, which also includes chipmunks, marmots and prairie dogs. There are over 270 types of squirrels, with various indigenous species found on every continent except Antarctica and Australia, (although squirrels have been introduced into Australia.) Squirrels are divided into 3 groupings, tree, ground or flying squirrels.

There have been squirrels on the African continent for around 20 million years. The African bush squirrel is a genus of squirrels that consist of 11 species of which the Smith's Bush squirrel is one. Smith's Bush Squirrel (Paraxerus cepapi), otherwise known as the Yellow-footed Squirrel or in South Africa simply as the Tree Squirrel is found in Central Africa, Eastern Africa and the northern regions of Southern Africa. This species lives in savannah woodland areas, favouring trees with suitable nesting holes.

Tree squirrels are arboreal (tree living) animals but will come down to the ground to forage for food. They are largely vegetarian, but like most rodents, will also take insect prey. They eat seeds and nuts from which they derive most of their protein, carbohydrates and fat. http://www.sabisabi.com/wildfacts/tree-squirrel

FACTS:

Name: Tree Squirrel or Smith's Bush Squirrel [Paraxerus cepapi]

Appearance

The total length is 350 mm, half of which is tail. This species only weighs 200 gram. The coat colour varies throughout the region. In the western and arid parts of its range it is pale grey, and in the eastern localities more brown. Head and legs are a rusty colour. Colouration on the chest varies from yellowish to buffy in the east, to white in the west. The Tree Squirrels' bellies are white. These alert and ever busy creatures carry their long tails extended backwards.

Diet

Primarily vegetarian, but like most rodents will take insect prey. Tree squirrels use their forefeet to manipulate food items when feeding. They scatter-hoard seeds next to tree trunks or grass tufts, thereby facilitating tree regeneration.

Breeding

In southern latitudes they are seasonal breeders. Courtship and mating occurs during August. They give birth to one to three pups during October to November, after a gestation period of 56 days. Pups are weaned at six weeks and leave the nest to feed on its own at the age of only 19 days.

Social Behaviour

Essentially arboreal animals, but spend a great deal of time on the ground, foraging for food. When disturbed, Tree Squirrels will always seek the refuge of trees. During the night, territorial family groups nest together in holes in trees. Offspring become sexually mature between six to nine months, at which stage they are forcibly evicted by the breeding pair. The males are mainly responsible for territorial defense, although females will also chase intruders when she cares for dependent pups. To promote group cohesion, a common scent is shared by mutual grooming, which is an important facet of the social fibre of this species.

Habitat

Inhabits savanna woodlands, inclusive of a wide variety of woodland types. It favoures trees with suitable holes for nesting, such as mopane. Failing the availability of nesting crevices in trees, will sometimes use holes in the ground.

Where they are found

The southern limit of this rodent’s distribution in South Africa, extends into the woodland savanna regions of North Western, Northern and Mpumalanga Provinces, and from here eastwards to Swaziland and Mozambique.

Vital Statistics

Latin Name: Paraxerus Cepapi

Weight (Female): 108 – 265 g

Weight (Male): 76 – 240 g

Length (Female): 35 cm

Length (Male): 35 cm

Gestation Period: 2 months

No of Young: 1 – 3

Sexual Maturity: 10 months

Birth Weight: 10 g

Order: Rodentia

Family: Sciuridae

Breeding: 1 – 3 young are born anytime during the year (peaks in October – April). Gestation period is about 8 weeks.

Spoor Description: Forefoot is 2 cm long, back foot is 3 cm long.

Source: http://www.krugerpark.co.za/africa_tree_squirrel.html

Our garden is glorious, filled with food and flourishing. Our guests are treated to organic fare picked daily and all of us at Leshiba are blessed to be able to enjoy fresh vegetables and the peace of the garden – a quiet gathering place to reconnect, quietly meditate and watch things grow.

A zebra in need

This past weekend, the girls, together with their oldest friends, Julian and Lola, went for an early morning drive. Down in the valley, they discovered a baby zebra that could not walk and was unable to follow the herd. Her mother had given up and wandered off so Erinn slowly climbed out the vehicle and made her way towards it, hoping to see what was wrong. To her own surprise she was able to get close enough to touch it. The zebra stood up but couldn’t move off as both her legs had injuries.

Daddy please

The radio call came through loud and clear. ‘Dad, dad,’ called Kai. ‘We have a baby Zebra that’s injured and we can’t just leave it. It’s going to die if we don’t try do something.’ Peter looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Don’t look at me,’ I said, ‘I can’t help you, this isn’t my field of expertise but you can’t leave it if there’s a possibility we can do something.’ Peter didn’t stand a chance. ‘Can you catch it?’ he asked. ‘Yes, came a chorus of voices but we need your help.’

The Plan

Peter went over to the workshop and loaded up a large net. He gathered all the medications that we keep for the horses and off we all went to see if we could catch the baby, administer the meds and hopefully see it run off with it’s mother. Sabina, (mom to Julian and Lola) and I sat in the car and watched Peter and the children attempt the impossible. To approach a wild baby zebra that is surrounded by the rest of the herd as well as a number of giraffe, some paranoid wildebeest and alert impala, seemed an unlikely thing. As it happened, they had no luck and we went home thinking that’s that then.

Children never give up!

We should have known better. Later that afternoon, the second radio call came in, this time loud and clear. ‘Dad has to get here right now, we are with the zebra and it is not near the herd.’ Pete jumped in the bakkie and raced off. When he got down to the plain, the zebra was lying very close to the road. They formulated a plan and slowly spread out using hand signals to indicate their intentions to each other. Erinn slowly approached the baby lying down in thick bush, Pete and Julian held the net, Lola blocked the escape route and Kai helped herd it when it ran, taking pictures at the same time to document the event.

Caught, treated, released

Safely trapped in the net, Erinn quickly took off her top to cover the zebra’s eyes. Once the baby couldn’t see, she relaxed and Peter was able to inject her with a painkiller and antibiotics. They cleaned and treated the wounds on her legs, released her from the net and Peter and Julian stood as the girls slowly walked her towards the herd. Everyone watched as the stallion sniffed and checked her out before the mother accepted her back and as the sun was going down, the baby drank for a long time and then slowly wandered off alongside her mom.

4 days later

Alive and well if not quite kicking, the zebra looks stronger and is walking and keeping up with the herd. It is the first time we have been able to treat an animal out in the veld and we feel exhilarated that it went off successfully.

The excitement

All game captures have their element of excitement. The adrenaline rush of the helicopter starting up and taking off; the cars lined up, idling, with everyone waiting for the radio call that the dart has gone in; the mad crazy dash to the capture site and the catch your breath moment when the giraffe staggers out the bushes in a last attempt to escape the bird-machine herding it, like stilt walkers out of control, until their long legs finally give in and they go down.

The responsibility

We feel very responsible for all our guests and for our wildlife. Usually we only capture in low season when the farm is quiet and we can focus on the matter at hand. Unfortunately this was the only opportunity for the game capture unit to come in as they are busy for the next 4 months and we try to capture well before winter when our animals are fit and healthy. With a helicopter in the picture, we knew game drives were not going to be realistic and we also knew that everyone would want the rare opportunity to witness a giraffe capture. It was no easy task making sure 35 people, including very young children, were kept at a safe distance and would be out the way, especially as everyone wanted to take pictures but we organised a limited number of vehicles to go out, piled everyone in and hoped that we wouldn’t be in the line of an out of control animal.

Dramatic moments

On the first capture our cars were lined up wrong and the giraffe went clean through us, nudging the Hilux. Pete jumped out to ward it off and all I could think was, he really loves that car! Needless to say, we stayed well back for the next lot. Julian, the pilot, performed manoeuvres not many people will witness in their lifetime. At times he was below the tree line and at others he seemed to turn on a tickey – really incredible to see. Nele, the vet, so professional, calm and cool headed, kept her focus with Julian’s crazy flying, placed her darts with precision and ran like mad to get to each fallen animal to get it back on its feet as quickly as possible. I have enormous respect for her level headedness and courage. A giraffe has very high blood pressure and has to have the drugs reversed immediately and have its head and upper body lifted up. The ground crew, led by Francois and JJ, all 15 brave men – I cannot imagine what guts you need to have to hang on to a giraffe with ropes and feet flying in all directions! – rushed in, put a bag over the animal’s eyes to calm it down, plugged it’s ears with cotton wool and tied ropes to its legs to control it once it stood up again. On the count of 3 they pushed and pulled and led each giraffe in to the waiting trailer and then the helicopter would start up again, Nele would jump in and it was on to the next one…

We had the trailer get stuck in mud, 2 giraffe go down in very thick bush, one giraffe slip it’s hood from over it’s head and make a mad dash for freedom with everyone dragging behind until they managed to get it back down again but all in all the capture was a success.

Relief and reflection

Two days later, hundreds of photographs and video footage and 6 giraffe safely captured, I was not unhappy to take a deep breath and feel relieved. It is hard for us to see any of our animals captured and taken off this mountain, which offers such a tranquil, peaceful life for them. I can’t help but reflect on their emotions and confusion, to be plucked from everything they know, food, water, family groups and taken to the unknown. It is our nature to place human emotion on everything but when I sat on the trailer, a few centimetres away from this most beautiful animal and watched it trembling, I couldn’t help but feel an enormous sense of guilt as to how we manipulate our world and all the things in it. We have fenced in land to protect our planet’s wildlife and in doing so we are forced to manage that land and take care of the wildlife that lives within. One can only offer grazing to a certain number of any given species and so game capture has become a part of our world and every 4 years, we see it through so that the wildlife that remains here can continue to thrive. However, it doesn’t get easier.

Home sweet home

Our 6 giraffe, 3 males and 3 females have gone to a new reserve outside Hammanskraal. They are on a 2500ha property with plenty of trees and a life ahead of them where they will be appreciated and looked after. May they live long contented lives.

Thanks guys for the wonderful stay, and hoping for many more…