Firestorm

Firestorm: Living with the Flames on Table Mountain

In late February 2025, Cape Town’s skyline disappeared behind thick smoke. A fire, driven by relentless summer winds, tore through the slopes of Table Mountain, leaving a charred trail across the fynbos-covered ridges and plunging the city into a familiar state of alarm. What began as a smoulder in the Newlands Ravine rapidly transformed into a full-scale wildfire, advancing over the mountain saddle toward the Central Business District and neighbouring suburbs.

For many Capetonians, this was not the first time they had witnessed their beloved mountain burn. In the past two decades, large fires have become regular occurrences: 2000, 2006, 2009, 2015, 2021—and now again in 2025. Each fire follows a similar script: strong winds, dry conditions, a single ignition point—often human in origin—and a rapid spread over vulnerable terrain.

And yet, the frequency of these events does not diminish their impact. Nature, community, and infrastructure all bear the cost.

The unique ecosystem that blankets Table Mountain, known as the Cape Floral Region, is one of the richest and most diverse in the world. It is home to over 9,000 plant species—many found nowhere else on Earth. This fynbos vegetation, surprisingly, is built for fire. In fact, some species require fire to reproduce; their seeds lie dormant until exposed to intense heat or smoke. But there is a delicate balance. Fires that return too frequently, or burn too hot, don’t give time for natural regeneration. Species can vanish, and soil can degrade.

What once was a regenerative process is becoming destructive.

The February blaze consumed over 148 acres of protected parkland in just 24 hours. Hundreds of firefighters worked in shifts, supported by aerial drops from helicopters and planes. A few weeks later, a second fire near Redhill engulfed over 3,000 hectares of vegetation and forced the evacuation of 200 residents. With each fire, the rhythm of the ecosystem is disrupted—trees felled, birds displaced, insects destroyed. The scars left behind take years to heal, if they ever do.

Climate change adds to the volatility. Cape Town’s fire season is lengthening. The rains arrive later, if at all, and temperatures are rising. Winds whip faster down mountain passes. What once were natural cycles are now amplified, made more unpredictable. In this shifting climate, both nature and humanity are being tested.

And then, there is the human cost. These fires threaten homes, lives, and livelihoods. Every summer, residents brace themselves. Evacuation bags are packed. Smoke detectors are checked. Families in fire-prone areas live with a kind of seasonal anxiety. Insurance claims rise. Fire services stretch thinner.

But these moments also expose the best of the city. Volunteer fire crews, conservationists, SANParks rangers, and everyday citizens work together—clearing firebreaks, delivering water, housing evacuees. Helicopters fly long hours over dangerous terrain. Community WhatsApp groups buzz with updates and support. Cape Town may burn, but it does not burn alone.

Living with fire is part of life in the Cape. But the question now is how to live smarter with it.

That means better land management—clearing alien vegetation that burns faster and hotter than indigenous flora. It means enforcing no-fire zones and holding arsonists accountable. It means investing in early-warning systems, community awareness, and firefighter resources. It means recognising that fire is not just an emergency—it’s a policy issue, a climate issue, a biodiversity issue.

Fire will return. That much is certain. But how prepared we are, and how well we care for the land between the flames, will determine how much we lose—and how much we can preserve.

Background to the story

The 2025 Table Mountain fire began on 23 February in Newlands Ravine, likely as a result of arson. It spread quickly due to strong winds, threatening parts of the City Bowl by 26 February. In total, over 148 acres of Table Mountain National Park were affected before the fire was contained on 27 February. A second major fire in April near Redhill destroyed vehicles and consumed 3,000 hectares of vegetation, prompting mass evacuations. One individual was arrested on suspicion of deliberately starting the second fire. These events continue a trend of increasing wildfire frequency in the Western Cape, driven by human activity and climate pressures.

The Image: A Fine Art Rendition of Crisis and Courage

Firestorm, the fine art photograph accompanying this story, captures a fleeting yet profound moment of contrast. A vivid yellow fire rescue helicopter cuts through the smoke-filled skies, flying above a scorched mountain outcrop and beneath curling plumes of orange, grey and ochre. The scene is both chaotic and strangely still—light and shadow playing out across a burning landscape.

What the viewer sees is a composite of two real moments from the same event, brought together to evoke the emotional gravity of the situation. It’s not just documentation—it’s a visual meditation on the relationship between man and nature. The machine hovers against the forces of wind and flame, a symbol of defiance and duty in the face of environmental collapse.

The result is a stirring balance of tension and beauty—an artistic reminder of how intertwined our fate is with the natural world we both rely on and disrupt.

Rolling Vistas Collection

Welcome to Terra Firma, a place we've inhabited since life began. A place we do not often see for its sheer magnitude and beauty, a place of enormous history and a billion stories to be told and shared.

There is tremendous beauty here for us to see too. We just have to find it, take a moment, and realize it is all around us. We explore the hills, mountains, and crazy landscapes all around us. From far and distant horizons and glorious sunsets to Mother Earth’s own expressions above, ahead, or below us through its vast continents and rolling lands.

Sony A1, Sony 200-600mm F5.6-6.3 G OSS, FL: 600mm, S:1/2000, F:7.1, ISO:800