Walking through Londolozi, it’s easy to marvel at the towering trees, the sweeping savanna, and the abundant wildlife. But beneath the surface, a hidden network is at work—one that mirrors the intricate relationships we see above ground. Recently, a guest kindly left me a copy of Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, which reopened my eyes to the profound role fungi play in ecosystems – reinforcing what I’ve long known but perhaps never fully appreciated. The bushveld has always been a place of connection, but fungi and mycelial networks reveal an entirely new layer of interdependence that often goes unnoticed.
Fungi is a kingdom of organisms. Mycelium is the vegetative body of a fungus and mushrooms are the reproductive structure of some fungi.
Fungi are organisms made of thread-like structures called hyphae, while mycelium is a network of hyphae that forms the vegetative body of a fungus. Pictured here, the thin strands are the mycelium and the round balls are the mushroom fruit.
Fungi are the great connectors of life. Below our feet, mycorrhizal networks link trees in a silent conversation, exchanging nutrients and information much like a biological internet. This underground web plays a crucial role in the resilience of Londolozi’s wilderness, ensuring that trees and plants support one another in times of need. In the same way that the pride of lions depends on cooperation to thrive, the plant life here is deeply interconnected, relying on unseen partnerships for survival.
As Sheldrake writes: “What we see as individual organisms are often collaborations—complex entanglements of life-forms.”
At the heart of this fungal network is mycelium—a vast, branching structure of thread-like cells that weave through the soil, forming an unseen but vital part of the bushveld’s ecosystem. Mycelium acts as nature’s underground transport system, transferring nutrients, water, and chemical signals between plants. Through these networks, trees can share resources, warn each other of pests, and even support weaker or younger saplings. Without mycelium, many of Londolozi’s iconic trees would struggle to survive in the nutrient-poor soils of the savanna.
Recently, I spoke with Bennet, one of Londolozi’s expert trackers, about why so many tamboti trees had lost their leaves in a particular area. He initially suspected the recent heavy rains had washed away too many nutrients, leaving the trees struggling. However, further observation revealed that the defoliation was caused by the banded Achaea caterpillar (Achaea catella), a species known to feed on tamboti leaves. These defoliation events are natural and occur periodically when conditions favour the proliferation of these indigenous caterpillars. While the trees may appear weakened, their long-term health is usually not compromised, as they have evolved to withstand such cycles of loss and regrowth.
The Tslala Female lies in the secretive shaded area of a tamboti grove. Not only are tamboti trees connected by mycelial networks but can grow in groves by undergoing the phenomenon of allelopathy, whereby a plant releases chemical compounds that can inhibit the growth or development of nearby plants, essentially acting as a natural defence mechanism to protect its territory and access to resources.
As I reflected on Bennet’s words and the resilience of the tamboti trees, I considered the role of the mycelium network in this process. When trees experience stress—whether from defoliation, drought, or other environmental factors—they often rely on underground fungal connections to recover. Mycelium networks facilitate the transfer of nutrients between trees, allowing stronger individuals to support those in need. This concept, explored extensively in Entangled Life, highlights how fungi act as nature’s communication and resource-sharing system. Though temporarily defoliated, the tamboti trees at Londolozi are likely benefiting from these hidden networks, ensuring their eventual recovery and continued role in the ecosystem.
Psilocybe cubensis growing out of elephant dung – even larger animals play a role in spreading fungi. Elephants, in their constant foraging, inadvertently distribute fungal spores, shaping the ecosystem in ways we are only beginning to understand.
Beyond the trees, fungi are nature’s recyclers, breaking down organic matter and returning nutrients to the soil. Without them, the bush wouldn’t be able to sustain the life we see daily. This hidden process reminds me of how everything in the wild has a role, even if we don’t always notice it. One of the most fascinating examples of this partnership is found in termite mounds. Termites cultivate fungi inside their towering structures, creating a perfect microclimate for decomposition and renewal. The fungi help break down plant material, making it digestible for termites, while the termites, in turn, provide an environment where the fungi can thrive. This mutualistic relationship is a cornerstone of nutrient cycling in the bushveld.
Termite mounds are more than just towering structures—they are living ecosystems where termites cultivate fungi to aid in digestion, a hidden yet vital part of the bushveld’s cycle of life. They also provide great vantage points for leopards such as the Xinkhova Female pictured here.
Born 2021, daughter of Nkoveni. Young dynamo actively claiming territory near camps, showing promise as next generation's dominant female.
Sheldrake’s book, along with the example of the tamboti trees and termite mounds, highlights that the natural world is not a collection of isolated species but an intricate web of relationships. This idea is deeply ingrained in life at Londolozi. Every sighting, every encounter, is part of a larger story—one of cooperation, resilience, and hidden connections.
Next time you walk through the bush, take a moment to think about the unseen forces at play. Imagine the vast fungal networks beneath your feet, the silent communication between trees, and the invisible hands shaping this ecosystem—it’s all part of the great entanglement of life.
Hi Kelsey, thank you so much for this wonderfully informative article, with examples. Recently I have encountered what looks like Psilocybe Cubensis as well as a few different types of mushroom in our yard resulting from all the rain. I’ve been fascinated by them and hopefully now a little better enlightened to the wonderful fungal activity below ground. It never ceases to amaze me after our exceptional dry spells, how seemingly dead bushes always seem to spring back to life after some rain. It makes a lot more sense now understanding that there is probably a large network of fungi mycelium below the surface soil giving the plants a helping hand.
I bet I would love that book. The Netflix documentary Fantastic Fungi was a highly entertaining visual example of this idea. Definitely worth the watch. I imagine that as science catches up to what we intuitively know, we will realize we too are all basically connected by an energetic mycelium network. I can’t wait for this concept to become mainstream. Perhaps it will help us raise compassion, empathy and consciousness on earth.
So interesting this fungi story because just two weeks ago we experienced mushrooms in our garden after it had rained. It looked absolutely beautiful but know we now it is mycelium and it brings nutrients to the trees and is good for the ecosystem.
A really interesting blog on fungi and the connections among different species.
Nature is so amazing, indeed. Great photos.
Thanks!
Hi Kelsey, all over the world luxurious forests depend on such relationship. When I read the first time how trees and plants help each other and suffer at the lost of a member, besides their ability to make the subterranean thread go, and vice versa, I was moved and excited and in the end it was something I had thought of as a child already. If only all humans beings would stop and look at how plants change their positions and colours, the way they change throughout the season or illnesses, there’s nothing more alive and fascinating than this visible and yet hidden world… great blog! And great pictures
That’s fascinating! Many thanks Kelsey.
Kelsey, Wow, what an interesting post! The underworld of Londolozi has certainly benefitted from the rewilding work that has been done!
This was such a fascinating blog Kelsey, illustrated by wonderful images, about the hidden world of the fungi, and how integral they are to life on so many levels. I have watched the Netflix documentary about the Fantastic Fungi , marveling at what scientists have discovered and I’m sure over time, we will learn even more about how these underground highways will impact our lives.