Have you ever wondered what tree a person would be? I do. Sometimes it may be a shrub rather than a tree, or a particular flower springs to mind on making a new acquaintance. Like my dear friend Sweet Pea Anna. When I am out shifting stock, my pondering time, I imagine World Leaders, present and past, as trees. Well, some are just old logs to be honest, and many crash and burn, but it is a fun game to while away the hours. This is a clever foil to distract you as it is Sunday of course. I am terribly late with this. No excuses, very sorry.
The orchard here is in flower, a haze of pink in an otherwise austere setting. Mrs. Green’s snowdrops have been flowering away as well, as have the jonquils assorted these last weeks. Such delicate pockets of welcome colour and perfume, all the more impressive as all around is so bare. I have been burying my nose in the jonquils, their heady scent fills my lungs and then I can feel it trickling into my veins via some sort of clever capillary action, whereby it actually engulfs you and makes you smile. It is an auto response, more interesting than Pavlov’s dogs and I recommend it to you unless you have some sort of allergy. Then it will probably just make you swheeze (sneeze-wheeze) alas.
I am very taken with the snowdrop picture, actually. In a seldom experienced outcome, it looks just as I had hoped when I planted it up in April. At the end of the kitchen deck, the white Crepe Myrtle , (you may recall planted in lieu of the orange flowering bobby-dazzler that made me perspire merely by looking -on through the summer), stands with just a tracery of twigs and seed pods, quietly awaiting the call of spring. The low box hedge behind is looking happy and boxing in the back of the bed, as it should. The front of the bed is now planted with a low Cuphea hedge, clipped to match, as the box here did not cooperate. Underneath is planted with snowdrops and jonquils and Annie’s violets have spread and are another source of capillary-action- induced smiles.
In other news, the winter cut back is almost finished. There are a few more roses to attack down along the creek, the grasses were cut back this week and all the ground covers as well. The little cordless hedger is so good for these jobs, quiet and light and runs out of puff about the same time as I do. There are now some chainsaw tasks to be knocked over and we are done. I was hoping to halve the big Oleander hedge this year, perhaps I can still sneak that in this month. It would have been clever to have done it after flowering, before we were engulfed in its seed storm which are now embedded in the gauze and filling up the house. My beautiful neighbour always cut off the oleander seed pods before they burst, she has been much in my thoughts this week as I walk through clouds of them floating in the breeze.
The grape vine will be my last cuttings to take and all my pots will be full. The salvias are romping away, warmed by the cover of an old window and the little Eremophila cuttings we took from along the walking track are still perky, so fingers crossed they take. I think they may be Eremophila obovata. I have a packet of Artichokes to sow in the seed box and that will be me for the week ahead.
I think I shall pick a little posy of violets today and present them to my Mother, who has fled the Toowoomba cold to enjoy some Quilpie cold instead. Cold is always better taken with a dose of dust. We shall see if they make her wheeze or smile,
The Moble Gardener