If you go down to the woods today…
Introducing the most beautiful place on earth.
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
Phillip Larkin
The forest on Kleinood, has always been hallowed ground. The very first thing we saw when we first drove onto the farm, was the forest. It was love at first sight. Small as it is, it is a place of serenity and peace. It is where you go at the end of the day to find solace, to contemplate, to dream or to cool down in the fresh clean river water. We have always kept it to ourselves, not wanting to share or disturb the quiet, to keep out the noise and protect whatever it is that we find there. And it was the inspiration and reason behind our much loved parfum, Winter Water, that will be relaunched in a new bottle and overall packaging, this winter.
Originally the wild olives and very old oaks were surrounded with masses of poplars. As the poplars fell with each winter storm we replaced them with indigenous yellow woods, stink woods, assegaai bushes, water berries and more. Eventually we found the courage to really climb in and remove all the poplars. It was a year-long project of sawing, carrying out the trees, and remove saplings that kept on reappearing. Even while we were still chopping away at the invasive aliens, the wild olives and indigenous species we had planted began to thrive in the new environment.
Once the clearing was done, we planted more and more, made pathways and cleaned an area around the largest natural pool in the river. It is here where we now spend our best summer days with long lunches in the dappled shade, cooling down in the icy water, throwing sticks for the dogs – lazing about far, far away from the world out there. Now when we go for walks, we walk from tree to tree watching them grow and knowing that one day, when we are no longer here, they will still be there, growing stronger, and caring for one another in their own special ways.
And then, just as everything had settled down by winter 2023, the heavy rains came. From one day to the next the gently flowing Blaauwklippen river and trickling Moordenaarskloof stream became torrents breaking their banks and taking everything in their way. Suddenly there was just water everywhere carrying trees and huge rolling rocks and stones and branches and logs tumbling and rolling and destroying everything everywhere. Huge old trees came crashing down, the bridge, the picnic table and chairs, ferns and moss and shrubs growing on the banks – everything, swept away. And the water just kept coming.
When it stopped raining, we could see the full extent of the damage for the first time. We could no longer cross the river to get into the forest, or whatever was left of it.
And so we started again. Cleaning up such utter destruction is no small feat, but nine months later we had a new bridge and the river banks were re-established. Things were not quite the same, but looked better. We lost a precious summer in our favourite spot on the farm, but we were hopeful and happy that, by the next summer, all would be back to its beautiful self once more, and this would only be a memory.
This, however, was not to be.
We don’t have wind to speak of in the Upper-Blaauwklippen valley. The North-Westerly winter winds can be wild, but when it comes down the Moordenaarskloof from the East it is scary. And, in April, when it came from the East it was horrific. Nothing could stay standing. Again the huge old oaks suffered the most. We lost many, many trees and also some of the real old giants came crashing down leaving enormous holes in the earth and changing the biospheres that formed around them over so many years, for ever.
The damage in the gardens was heartbreaking, but again it was the forest that got hit hardest. Again it was unreachable. The fences were down and there were trees everywhere. In some places we could pull them back up and put in supports, but in general it meant chainsaws for days on end.
Now, two months down the line, we are still busy cutting, chipping, composting, replanting and resuscitating what we can. Ever so slowly we are getting there and hopefully, come spring everything will be done, there will be bright green buds of leaves, blossoms and new growth everywhere. We will once again be amazed by the intense power and resilience of nature and marvel at the glory and indescribable beauty that surrounds us.
We will then too open the Kleinood gardens and forest to visitors, and happily take you for a stroll, for you to joyfully share in the whole Kleinood experience.
