There is some strange kinship between the land and sky here. The naked earth and the belly of the blue above seem almost to touch in every direction, leaning on one another in solidarity against the arid, aching space.
But the affinity between terrestrial and heavenly goes beyond geographical illusions: Sutherland is bursting with mirrors of the above, below.
On any given amble into the grasslands beside the road, you will come across Cliffortia arborea – the star tree – which is indigenous to these parts. Around the stem of this tenacious vegetation sprout a spiralling staircase of sword-like leaves which give the appearance of a star when viewed from above.
Lepidochrysops mcgregor, the McGregors’ Blue butterfly, is another earth-bound mimic of the sky. Mimicking what you will not know, though, without optical assistance. Viewed through a telescope, the intensely-glittering, blue star Butterfly Cluster can be seen just north of Scorpius’ tail on a clear night, among the other constellations which form the dazzling fray that ignites the night sky in the streetlampless town.
The McGregors’ Blue and star tree, nag at the downcast eyes of visitors, reminding them of an indispensable awareness you need in Sutherland: look up, and look long, because there in lies the key to this town and its people.
Astēr planētēs, from which the word planet is derived, means, quite literally, “wandering stars”. Perplexed by the circling aberrations, the Ancient Greeks mistook Jupiter, Venus and Mars for curious stars, and were entranced by their inexplicable, persistent movement. Astrology and cosmology is unrecognisable from that of the Ancient Greeks. Planetary motion, though, has remained a certainty.
Like the sky that is criss-crossed by dawdling orbs, Sutherland is peopled by migrators, trekkers and tourists.
Ever since the South African Astronomical Observatory made itself at home here in 1974, astronomers and cosmologists have been the most faithful callers. Unlike the tourists who flit in and out, scientists come and go as regular as lunar phases according to strict shifts on the telescope roster.
A visit to the candle that draws them is worthwhile. Squatting like benign idols on the top of a koppie outside Sutherland, the South African Large Telescope (SALT) and her 13 companion telescopes fall within the greater SAAO complex.
Starting at the visitors’ centre, which offers an interesting – and interactive – whirlwind tour of the history of the cosmos, those who book will be shown instructive DVD crash-course on universal scale. Thereafter a SAAO tour guide escorts you up the hillside to inspect the mirrored-miracles up-close. If you book well in advance, you can even join the resident astronomer for a night tracking planets as they traverse the peat-black sky.
If you want a more laid-back star-gazing experience, though, visiting Stêrland is a good idea. Jurg and Rita Wagener made the most of the area’s status as cosmology capital of the Cape, and have turned their smallholding into an amateur astronomer’s paradise.
After a robust karoo meal courtesy of Rita, you are handed over to Jurg for the rest of the evening. The star-gazing veteran, equipped with a long-range laser, points out the constellations while you peer through one of his several meter-high telescopes. These sessions can last late into the night, and it is unwise to underestimate the cold: dress warmly, and pack an extra layer or two.
Many of the old residents, like the Wageners, have adapted to Sutherland’s burgeoning tourism trade. While self-consciously preserving the habits of their parents’ parents, these Sutherlanders are equally happy to turn their customs into marketable entertainment.
Nicol and Marina van der Merwe, both born in the town, have lived on Blesfontein farm for 26 years. And, for 26 years they have been trekking.
“You do not have a choice but to trek here,” says Marina, “the first farmers had to do it, and so do we.”
The trek, she explains, is the arduous herding of the Merino flocks from the high sheep-grazing grounds, to the lower-lying land for the winter.
Lying close to the plateau of the Roggeveld mountains, Sutherland winters are notoriously cold. In fact, they are as cold as it gets in South Africa. The closer you are to the escarpment, the more winter rain you get, and the colder the winters become.
“It’s too cold to keep sheep above the plateau during the winter,” says Marina. “So farmers in the area have a winter farm and a summer farm.”
Blesfontein is in the perfect position for this, as the farm straddles both escarpment and lower grazing lands.
“Our winter and summer farms are so close together we can literally walk the sheep up and walk them down,” she says. “It takes about two days. The night in between, we camp in the veld.”
This night-over is the sleeping bag-swaddled, gas-equipped equivalent of the same trek that Marina’s great-great grandparents did.
It is a matter of precision planning to move the flocks at the right time: too early and they starve on the ungreen lower pastures, too late, and the herders – and the sheep – might freeze. But, after 26 years, the Van der Merwes know the signs well. So well, in fact, that they have turned their tradition into a tourist attraction, and are confident enough to invite curious city-slickers to join them on their overnight adventure.
Mid-June each year, they invite visitors to pack a camping bag and come along. For the sake of the guests, the trek is now shadowed by a food-and-baggage-bearing bakkie, to lighten the load of the first-timers.
Not everyone, though, has welcomed the post-SALT activity, and some have upped and left for smaller pastures like Calvinia and De Aar.
Jacobus Smit, who was born in Sutherland in 1954, has watched as these hardliners faded out of town.
At ease in the kindly shadow of the Louw Huis Museum, the old man does not look a day past 50: wrinkles softened by the lack of light, and eyes dancing as he recalls his youth.
“I left when I was young, but I soon came home, and I’ve been building Sutherland ever since,” he proclaims with a laugh.
It is true: from the new, SAAO-funded Sutherland Community Development Centre, to the bed and breakfast opposite him, Jacobus has paved and plastered on almost every block in town.
“I built that one for an attorney,” he says, pointing to a gabled cottage. “But he left, and now it’s going to be a guesthouse, they say.”
Walking through the streets Jacobus playing impromptu guide, you get the sense of the profound change in the town: the adaption of some residents evident in sudden bed and breakfast additions on 100-year-old houses, the fleeing of others attested by out-of-town number plates in their deserted driveways.
Perleman’s Pub has new owners who arrived from Belville in early October, and down the road, Zelly coffee shop opened its doors when the proprietors arrived in Sutherland just last year.
But despite the novelty of this veritable foreign influx, there are some whose coming to Sutherland is even more astonishing: the return of the town’s twenty-something youth.
Deswinn Kleinveld works at the SAAO-funded Sutherland Development Community Centre. Seduced by the call of the city, he left town to study two years ago.
“But now I’m back because there are jobs here now,” he explains.
“When I lived away, I lost touch with my friends, so it was nice to be able to come back. We used to leave because there was nothing for us here. But the SAAO makes a lot of effort to bring people here,” Deswinn explains.
Change is afoot, he says. The telescopes and tourists have generated growth, and with this growth, young people like him are finding their way back to Sutherland.
You can see it in the ex-suburbanites who now inhabit Jacobus’ handiwork. You can hear it in the voices of Deswinn’s locally-grown twenty-something co-workers. And you can feel it as a visitor wanting to linger a little longer.
There is more to do in Sutherland these days, and you need at least a long weekend to do the visit justice. Whether following the cold footsteps of the first trekkers at Blesfontein, or clambering around the 82-ton colossus that is SALT, Sutherland encourages visitors to look both back and forward, and both up and down.
And, as Sutherlanders slowly abandon their wandering ways because home now seems like a livelier place, they imbue their nomadic spirit in visitors who long to come again.