In Emerald a Winter Garden

In Emerald a Winter Garden

Back in Lemnos Where the Sun Shines Hot

Vegetables at their peak in a Lemnos Garden

Still in Lemnos, our children and friends, looks hot!

From The Dry Hot Summer Beauty of Lemnos

To the Cool Damp Winter Beauty of the Dandenong Ranges

Many folk in Melbourne think we are mad to return from the heat of Greece to winter in Victoria, but there are benefits.

In particular the ability to see and enjoy our winter garden there. So we have left behind a garden full of ripe tomatoes and come to a garden of early daffodils and camellias.

Spring Yellow Daffodils

Summer Daffodils? Daffodil Lilies on a beach in Lemnos

When I left here three months ago, to go to Greece the deciduous trees were bright with autumn colours, now they are bare. Soon they will be putting on light green foliage. And for the gardener too there are seasonal jobs. Right now I am cleaning up fallen branches and putting on the bonfire, and looking through garden books for what to do when the weather improves.

 A Winter Walk to the Shops

 

I don’t mind walking in the rain. Takis is shocked, and I say I’m not made of sugar what ever that old nursery rhyme says... 'sugar and spice and all things nice'!

It takes me about as long to walk to the newspaper shop here in Emerald as it does in Myrina, though I know I will find a current, daily, English paper here. In Myrina, very understandably, and especially in those months when there are no tourists, I only likely to find one or two, and they will be about a week late.

As I take this short walk here in the Dandenong Ranges I love looking at the bare trees. (My last blog was about the bare trees.) I enjoy noticing the things that leaves hide, the mistletoe, the bird’s nests and the houses behind.

Once many years ago when I attended a youth club in England we had to learn to recognize trees by their leaves but also by their shape in winter. I’m afraid I’ve now lost a lot of that knowledge.

There are the changes too to notice in other people’s gardens. I’m interested to see the flowers of camellias that I don’t have in my garden, the various magnolias that have plump buds and may be open next time I pass.

And  then, along the roadsides, there are flowering plants in the gutters and wild cherry trees that are already in early bloom.

My Emerald Garden in Winter

Australia is a large continent, and the air temperature, wind, rainfall and humidity in each state and each capital is very different. If you live in Sydney you can grow tropical plants and cold-climate plants together. However humidity is the biggest problem for Sydney gardeners. It is the opposite in Adelaide where the South Australian air is generally much drier. In Queensland there is high humidity and heavy rainfall, and tropical flowers all year round.

Whereas, in Tasmania and Victoria, though there is deep rich soil and rolling green hills, there are frosts in winter. What I like about these two last states is that there are clearly defined seasons.  My garden in Victoria has these definite seasons. 

Coming back Melbourne, to see some of the plants in my garden beginning to bloom has been a joy. The morning may be cold and damp, and the winter winds circling around, but often in the afternoon the air is warm and there are the first hints of the spring scents in the air.

Many plants seem to bloom all year round like the salvias by the front gate. Others bloom only in winter like the flowering quince and mimosa. 

Seeing the wattle (mimosa or acacia) in bloom has reminded me I don’t have any in my garden and I must buy a couple to add their bright yellow to brighten up things in August. 

My many Azaleas plants seem to bloom more than once in the year but now is their most colourful time, with just a spotting of later blooms.

And now, with winter here and a lack of other food the birds really appreciate the seed I put out for them. As soon as I’ve put out new seed in the feeder the crimson rosellas and king parrots fly in, with bronze wings and young rosellas feeding on the ground underneath, picking up the fallen seed.