Sunday, July 3, 2016

planting time

It's time to tuck in some new little babies.

Fresh seedlings. Full of promise and potential

The earth here is del-ic-ious!
Truly - it is so good. We really are blessed to live here.
I pinch myself some days.
And I am very thankful.

I'm not that flash at straight rows, but they don't mind.
I think rain is coming to settle them in tomorrow. 
Perfect timing.

I am only a tiny little humble flower farmer.
Maybe I'm naive. Maybe I'm lazy!
I prefer to keep things simple and down to earth.
These flowers are out in the open. Vulnerable, yes, but 
I think they smell better out in the fresh clean air here at Ravensbourne.
Grown naturally out in the garden just like flowers are meant to grow. 
I am very aware of how fragile we all are. 
I can plant the seedlings, but only God can do the rest.
It makes me realise how very vulnerable we are to the mercy of God's provision and protection.
The day after I harvested last year's beautiful bountiful crop of flowers, we had a hail storm in the neighbourhood. 
My heart goes out to farmers.
Not only does nature assail their crops, but the majority of the money made goes into everyone else's pockets.
I absolutely love being a small spasmodic part of the Toowoomba Farmer's Market
They only kicked off one year ago. Three cheers for farmers' markets!
See you in the spring :)

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

beautiful imperfection

In a world striving for pinterest perfect, I find it a relief that all sorts of beauty can still be had right under our noses.

Ugly beautiful.

Like this little lilac blossom.
It's quite deformed. I don't know why, but I can't seem to get my lilacs to look natural. They seem stunted somehow, like they're holding back and afraid of running amok on their privet root stock. I've planted an assortment of different species on their own root stock, but keep wanting to persevere with the grafted syringa.
I adore the fragrance. I think it is one of my favourites.
Can't you catch a whiff of the delicate scent?
Even though the leaves curl up and the flowers brown off and seem weird and wonderful, I still enjoy the fragrance. 
I'll take loveliness as I find it and make the most of it.

This malformed old rose still has the most gorgeous scent. It is all weird and wonderful too, but so pretty and happy to be appreciated in its imperfection. Black spot and all.
Why do we reject the imperfect? Flowers don't abide by rules in our garden.
Who says I have to prune back the hydrangeas after flowering? The plants get pruned in due course and they're always prolific.
I can still enjoy the surprise of a cheerful blue blossom long after summer. 
The winter light caught this one amid the spent old brown heads and mottled leaves. 
A moment to stop and savour the late afternoon sunshine catching the pretty petals in hues of blue. 

Thursday, April 28, 2016

scents of adventure

What fragrance stirs the hint of adventure?

Beckoning us out the door for a change of scenery

prompting road trips and picnics

driving off to explore new territory 

                                            and camping?

Autumn has a distinct fragrance.

The scent of a campfire
pine cones.
the smell of the bush after a fresh fall of rain
smoky billy tea

frying onion on the barbecue
cinnamon and apple
pure wool jumpers and blankets
cool, crisp air with the promise of starry nights.

'Tis the season for expeditions!

Friday, October 9, 2015

pretty poppies

Peter didn't pick a pickled pepper...
but there are lots of pretty poppies popping up in the potager at present!
I just love seeing these ruffly pink poppies self seeding in the garden. 
They are part of my "trowel and error" journey to hitting the jackpot when I finally discovered the success of those previously mentioned gorgeous stocks.
I bought a selection of various poppy seeds from this cottage garden in Victoria and scattered then about, looking forward to harvesting all the different coloured flowers.
Purple ones, dark burgundy ones, stripey ones, ruffly blowsy pink ones, red ones and frilly ones!

Alas, I am a naive flower farmer.
I didn't realise they don't last long once you pick 'em. 
The grey green seed pods are striking though and the seeds are happily springing up all over the place.

The bees are quite beside themselves, gorging and tripping over each other in the pollen. 

Self seeded plants are the best. Strong and hardy, they don't need mollycoddling, even as tiny seedlings emerging out of dry soil.
They are very welcome in all the nooks and crannies.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

spring has sprung

Pretty in pink...



Vulcan magnolia 


There's been mayhem in the orchard. 

We've procrastinated about pruning the fruit trees for three years in a row. 
This winter called for drastic measures if we were going to be able to pick the fruit without a very tall ladder.
We've been a bit tentative about how to go about it. 
In the end, hubby just started with the chainsaw and gave them all a thorough chop. 

It looked horrible. 

But things often look worse before they get better.
The trees are already shooting new growth and even a few tentative blossoms are making an appearance with the promise that next year will be a bumper crop.

Hope and optimism are essential in the country.

spring beauty

It’s a proper springy spring this year. Not a huge jump from cold to hot temperatures all at once. Sometimes we seem to go straight from winter to summer with no mild weather in between.
This year is perfect with balmy days that gently ease us into short sleeves and bare legs plus cool nights with just a nip in the air.
And today, some welcome rain to encourage all those lovely blossoms and fresh new growth.

Forest Pansy.
So interesting the way the pretty little flowers sprout straight from the branches.

More of my favourite colour in the garden. Can't get enough of this lovely magenta!

This Japanese maple is delightful with its surprising burst of bright red foliage.

“Spring Fire” has vibrant ruby coloured new growth which then changes to green.

I love plants that take you by surprise.

This little bloom below is an akebia - chocolate vine.
It is the first thing we planted here.

Now it is entwined all over the place. Hubby calls it The Triffid.
I am not quite sure how to tame it, but the flowers are sweet and actually smell like cocoa.