The spring sunshine in Cape Town has a brittle quality, where periods of intense clarity are suddenly muted by bursts of rain. Moments later the sky clears, Table Mountain reappears from the shrouding clouds, and the world sparkles. At Jaftha’s Flower Farm in Constantia, fields of ranunculus and stocks are in bloom, posies of violets are sold by the delicate bunch, and long-stemmed, fragrant freesias are bought by customers who bump down Brounger Road (freshly potholed by a sodden winter) to the small, fifth-generation farm. (Learn the history of the farm in our previous story.) Jaftha’s is a destination for any flower-loving visitor to the city, and for me, recently, the welcoming farm offered floral comfort during a visit from New York City to see my unwell mother.

Photography by Marie Viljoen.

I last visited Jaftha’s Flower Farm in summer, when its rows of plum trees were dropping ripe fruit and the fields were filled with the dahlias for which the Jaftha family is famous. Now, in early spring, the fruit trees are in bloom and the dahlia tubers that were lifted before the Cape’s wet winter are about to be planted again in the rich black soil of the valley.

Buying flowers directly from any cut flower farm is a treat, and at Jaftha’s the same flowers cost around a third of local store-bought bouquets. For visiting Americans, there is an exchange-rate bonus: The prices are exceptionally favorable at a time when one US dollar buys around 18 South African rands. For example, at the time of writing, a R50 bouquet of vivid ranunculus is $2.65.  And those flowers last up to 10 days, in fresh changes of water.

Freesias were the flower that brought me back to Jaftha’s again and again during a nearly month-long stay. At a series of temporary Airbnb homes, I watched the austere and tightly budded stems open gradually, releasing more and more scent as each flower’s petals unfurled. I took bunches to my mother, who used to grow freesias (native to South Africa) in her beautiful garden.

After three careful, COVID-19-free years, I had managed to catch the evolving virus on the crowded flight from Newark to Cape Town. The ill-timed infection packed a punch, and I was out of commission for a miserable week. When I could smell the freesias again, I knew that I had turned a corner, and could visit my elderly mother again.

Iceland poppies are sold for a couple of weeks in early spring and are underrated for perfume. Their crinkled petals emerge from furry buds, which drop like cocoons from which butterflies have broken free.

Queen Anne’s lace has a very long season in Cape Town, from early spring through summer’s end.

South African native blushing bride (Serruria florida) is critically endangered in the wild. The flowers sold commercially around the city are farm-grown in the Western Cape.

New customers keep discovering  the Jafthas. The farm has a very low profile on social media, and word of mouth is still its strongest recommendation. Visitors are welcome to walk the unfenced fields, and in summer the fruit of those plum trees is offered to anyone who would like some (eggs too, from the happy flock, if you arrive early).

There is no bad season to discover this heritage-rich farm where a flower-selling tradition grows strong. Just jump on a direct flight from the US. (And cover your cough.)

See also:

• South African Spring: Arum Lilies, Everywhere
• 8 South African Flowers for American Gardens
• 11 Garden Ideas to Steal from South Africa