6. Geo-Anthropomorphism

This to me, this looks like the gathering of the elders, engaged in serious conversation over grave matters. Please visit the The Arts in Focus to obtain information about our 2014 Matopos Calendar -  an initiative supporting rhino conservation in Zimbabwe. If I could be like Matobo As an enthusiastic student I was frequently warned against it, the greatest sin a zoologist could commit - anthropomorphism. Describing animals and their behavior in terms of human characteristics was taboo. In those days animals were not supposed to behave in human ways or show emotions. Not sure if this is also a sin in Geography, but its the only way I can describe Matobo and the influence it exerts on us as we travel through it. If I could be like Matobo - bold and generous, gentle and fertile, grandiose but true to it, larger than life itself, but still sincere - what a life that would be? To handle life with all its challenges, droughts and floods, eons of climate change, frosty winter mornings and sweltering summer days, bathing in showers and lit up by lightning while listening to the distant music of thunder… Imagine harboring rhinos and sheltering sable and eagles and have enough delicate space for mosses and lichens! And to be able to do all of this with grace and confidence the way Matobo holds itself together with broad granitic shoulders and boulders and fertile wetlands and grassy meadows. If I could be like Matobo - bold and generous, gentle and fertile, grandiose but true to it, larger than life itself, but still sincere - what a life that would be? To handle life with all its challenges, droughts and floods, eons of climate change, frosty winter mornings and sweltering summer days, bathing in showers and lit up by lightning while listening to the distant music of thunder… Imagine harboring rhinos and sheltering sable and eagles and have enough delicate space for mosses and lichens! And to be able to do all of this with grace and confidence the way Matobo holds itself together with broad granitic shoulders and boulders and fertile wetlands and grassy meadows. Complex geomorphology, and diverse plants. I love the way some plants grow high in these hills, there cant be much soil there - but this land is  generous and accommodating. The mother and child - how long has she cared for the children of Matobo? Have you noticed how proud those hills can be? Rich in character, with the years showing in their faces and postures alike, but still proud, still going about their daily chores with focussed diligence, without fail. Whether they are draped in generous layers of moss and lichens, standing tall amongst great botanical diversity in the national park, or bare in the desolate over-grazed communal landscape, these hills are never stripped of their pride and dignity. Those in the communal areas, accustomed to human presence and attention often reveal so much more of themselves. Unashamedly they invite you in, like the local inhabitants will invite you into the rich cool atmosphere of their huts and share a meagre meal of maize on the cob and sweetened tea.  Matobo could be an old man, graciously allowing the world to build paths and schools and lives while nurturing a thousand fields and producing grazing for a nation’s cattle, providing stones for generations of catapults and logs for kraals and mud for humble huts. Even, allowing Rhodes to carve into it an empire and a grave. Yielding abundant golden fields of grass, turned into bundles of thatch by women with dextrous sickles. As their clear voices sing lonely tunes, I can clearly imagine him, Old Matobo, lying back content for what he gives. And then there is the feminine side of this place, the ability to spawn new generations of everything within her, and within her reach… trees, the thatching grass, the grazing and even the human spirit, our values and the goodness of the veldt. She will allow the water to run from her noble shoulders and accumulate in streams and rivers, channeling it to places in need, where thirsty cattle will congregate to drink and settle to rest and ruminate… allowing this place to strengthen them, mold them and sustain them - like we all should. What better place can there be, to stimulate the heart and soul of a thinking being? Can there be a better place to grow into the person you ought to be? Matobo changes you, shapes and builds you. It prepares you for the rest of your life, like it prepared the proud Ndebele nation for what was to lie ahead in their history. Matobo spawned important people, proud kings and distinctive leaders, to this day. There is no other way, if you, or a nation submit to this place and accepts its influence, you can only emerge as a finer being or greater nation on the other side. I am staying a little longer, if I may.

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!