A few weeks ago, I found a white Crepe Myrtle jammed in beside a hedge; planted carelessly without thought or foresight. The last few times I have done me hedgin’, it has been cursorily dismissed as in the way. A sad outcome indeed for naturally, it is uncomplaining and growing happily despite its cramped quarters. It has since dawned on me this would be the perfect transplant specimen to replace the vivid cerise flowering model I have growing at the end of the deck. You may recall the cerise flowering model that was meant to fill the kitchen view with soft pink blossoms? You can imagine the jolt when it flowered like a bushfire on a hot day instead.
I may have even suggested to myself that I will wait until winter, when both are dormant, to shift them. In an orderly and timely fashion. Yesterday, I picked up Mrs. Green’s snowdrop bulbs and inspiration struck again: how perfect they would be planted underneath the white Crepe Myrtle at the end of the deck, where we can gaze down upon them whilst enjoying a tipple on a cold August day. The deed was as good as done. Off to the cattle yards with the trailer for a load of manure. Flaming Crepe Myrtle dug up, hole dug over with manure, blooming Crepe Myrtle planted, and snowdrops popped in underneath. I have some violets to plant there to finish and hopefully it will be a happy little picture.
Just as an aside, years ago in Brian’s grandparent’s era, everything at Moble was always blooming and everything at Whynot, next door, was always flaming. Rather like my crepe myrtles.
We made a start on clearing up the western wilderness part of the garden this week. The old fence has been removed along with some dead rubbish, there is more to go when the chainsaw is fixed. Pulling down the old fence, including the Pigeon Gate which did make me pause, has brought about the most incredible change. We have carefully left all the little native ground covers in-situ, and Mother, in a rare Zen-like moment, artfully raked a little path through the saltbush, which instantly draws your eye outwards and invites you to follow it. Mr. Moble and the Impatient Gardener were extremely proficient on the grader and tractor, re-shaping and cleaning up groundworks; and where there is a natural bare spot, we will have a little fire area and some logs for seating.
From here, your eyes look outwards to the soft flat beyond, perfect in the late afternoon light. Removing the fence brings all this into the garden, almost to the kitchen door, the difference is quite astonishing. I see after all these years the solution to garden boundaries out here is simply not to have any. This has been the Impatient Gardener’s approach to her garden which has worked beautifully over at The Cottage, drawing in the creek and its landscape as part of her garden.
Of course, this approach is not always possible, with the constraints of small children and marauding animals. A western garden of great charm has managed this very cleverly by having a large compound fenced in with netting, the garden and sheds all nestled within. The Wareo garden is a welcoming green oasis, merging seamlessly into the surrounding soft mulga and box flats beyond; all the natural grasses and herbages flourishing, fenced off to any grazing pressure. The Wareo Gardeners are an enthusiastic and creative pair, this superb garden a reflection of their hard work, great skill and vision. It is wonderful to see a garden that embraces its bush surroundings rather than looking inwards and the compound approach allows for a natural dust and windbreak. Well, within reason, we all know there is dust and then there is dust!
It is hard to imagine a garden that could not be improved by some borrowed landscape; indeed, the borrowed landscape can be improved by a garden as well. Horses for courses as ever, but then I would be happy to have them included in my landscape picture as well.
Remember if it is all too overwhelming, just squint and blur the edges,
The Moble Gardener.