5. Transitions

Change, cycles, natural rhythms and transformations

Grass, trees, rocks an boulders all
contribute to this dynamic mosaic

According to the dictionary on my computer, transition is the process or period of changing from one state or condition to another. So the word is used to describe both the process and the timing of change, from one place to another, or the same place changing over time. An interesting concept when you want to photograph “place or space” and “time”.

During the last few days I have been driving to and from work at odd hours, and the concept described above keeps coming back to me. There are all these transitions which this time of year highlights so clearly. During the wet season, when everything is green, it is almost impossible to see the transitions, or the delineations, between grass, shrubs and trees, or between riverine and savanna and savanna and hill: the ecotones, as we call them, the areas of transition between vegetation communities. But now, in winter, the lines demarcating them are stark, clearly-drawn, even to the untrained eye. There are, however, many more transitions: those between states which change in reaction to soil type or man-made entities, like the edges of roads, and natural pasture giving way to crop fields, and parks to agricultural land. There are the transitions as you go up the hills from the river or drainage lines at the bottom-lands to higher lying areas, with grass and acacias. Then up hills with their own vegetation type (defined by structure and species composition) and granite outcrops, so characteristic of this part of the world. Those are the transitions in space: one vegetation condition following another in a pretty predictable pattern as governed by aspect (south facing versus north facing) soil type and moisture levels, as well as altitude, land use and abuse.

The cycles of grass growing, dying, burning and sprouting
is in stark contrast with ancient solid granite.

The other transition I see unfolding as I drive is the process of change which happens to the same place over time: the cyclic nature of place in areas with high seasonal variability. It is the natural (or sometimes, not so natural) progression of green grass lignifying, hardening and protecting itself against herbivory (i.e. being eaten by herbivores!), ensuring the production of viable seeds. What remains is the dry, golden-colored grass, moribund as its lifecycle is complete. Slowly, this rich standing hay is consumed by eager ungulates in search of a digestible diet. 

Annual fires change the landscape - it keeps small trees
from growing and maintains what is called a fire climax savanna

In many areas this grass will soon be grazed by cattle, to be ruminated at night in peaceful kraals with their brass bells ringing softly as their jaws move rhythmically, or trampled into dust and eventually returned to the soil either as undigested organic matter or manure: good ecology either way! Often though, as in much of Africa, the inevitable happens, the incredibly fast transition from rich golden biomass to heat, smoke and ash as a fires rage through the dry landscape. The end result of this is a black and ash environment, devoid of any nourishment where regeneration, stimulated by rain, is the only way to new life. 

Total transformation - Black & Ash

Against all odds!

There is always a little happiness when I drive to work through the burnt areas and emerge on the other side…and I always eagerly seek out where the fire ceased its destruction and the grass maintained its presence. Every night I drive home I instinctively look for the red glow in the distance. I hate these fires, but when I come across them I always stop, mesmerized and shaken up by their incredible destructive power, drawn to it. I stop, look and, in a strange way, I enjoy them. There is something about veld fires – the powerful display of energy as light – and even though it is extremely destructive, there is a mysterious and  magical attraction, something that brings about an increase in a man’s heart beat. Perhaps it only happens to Africans, and other people who understand this proud continent, and the processes which drive the transitions here.

Strip roads remain a feature of this landscape connecting
outlying rural areas with vibrant Bulawayo!

Perhaps the fascination with transitions this time of year relates to the instinctive expectation of the new season about to emerge. The sense of excitement, as you smell summer: you look for the changes in the sky, eagerly and subconsciously keeping an eye on the faintest of clouds, only to see them losing their feeble hold on the dry atmosphere. Patience and time will bring about the greatest annual transition…the greening of the earth after a long dry season. 

I should not be too expectant now, it’s only the first week of September, the first rains could be months away…and there are still some severe processes and transitions to play themselves out before then. Like the tiny green grasses I saw emerging on the barren apron of the road this morning, where the veldt burnt some weeks ago. “Residual moisture”, I heard the voice of the rangeland scientist in me; “Stupid ignorant little sods!” answered the cynical side of me, “Good luck to you!” I shouted as I drove by, making a mental note to check upon their progress in the next few weeks.

Mopani leaves dry out during winter - creating lovely colors
which will soon give way to a new season. 

So, transitions would be a good word to keep in mind as I attempt to capture the essence of Motopos, an added component to consider when engaging in Ansell Adam’s visualizing of a subject. I am sure you will see it, whether intentionally focused on it or simply as a natural characteristic of the scene photographed. But look out for it, its omnipresent in our complex and dynamic world!