Sunflower Surprises

Some months ago I decided to plant some sunflower seeds to grow into a living cubby to amuse Ellie and Evie. Seeds of the variety 'Evening Sun' were bought from organic supplier Green Harvest after I saw a picture in their catalogue and was attracted by the range of colours. Who knew that sunflowers come in other colours than yellow? 

The seeds had a good germination rate and were surprisingly easy to grow. After the seedlings were transplanted into a rough circle for the cubby and the leftovers scattered around the feral flower field, they grew strongly. They are now in full flower and I'm surprised every day by how much pleasure they give me. Though most of the flowers are basically shades of yellow, they range from russet, to bronze to mauvish/pinkish tones. The stems are multibranched, with the most vigorous plants having numerous flower heads. Even on the one plant, individual flowers differ in their colour variations.

So far Ellie has visited once since they have been blooming and seemed to be intrigued by the idea of having a flowery place to play in.

In addition to the pleasure of the flowers, I thought I remembered reading somewhere that they atttracted beneficial insects to the garden. A little research found a report of a study done by scientists at the University of Florida. The two-year study found that '. . . sunflowers attract and play host to numerous beneficial insects'. These include lacewings, ladybirds, bees, big-eyed bugs, parasitic wasps, green lynx spiders, predatory stink bugs and assassin bugs. A further finding was that '. . . crop vegetation within 1 m of sunflowers exhibited nearly the same abundance and diversity of beneficial insects as did the sunflowers themselves'.

Until today I had noticed only bees on the flowers. An inspection of them while wearing my glasses revealed numerous insects scurrying over the leaves and inside the flowers. There are many ants, a few ladybirds and a variety of small insects that I don't know the names of.

So, sunflowers are surprisingly beneficial as well as surprisingly attractive. The one drawback I've found is that they do need more water than I had expected. They have even stood up to the blustery southerly winds quite well with very little damage. Next spring I'll plant them among the vegies where they will be of more practical benefit and no extra watering will be needed as the vegies are regularly watered anyway.

Summer Blooming Beauties

After the garden's spring burst of exuberance when there is a palette of colour wherever you look, early summer can seem a little drab. That is, until the vigorous summer-blooming beauties begin to flaunt their finery.

This week has seen the re-emergence of one of the crepe myrtles (the brighter one) and the chaste berry. These will both brighten the garden all through summer and into early autumn. Then, there will be the bonus of berries for the rosellas to snack on and cheerful autumn foliage. The ericas almost never stop flowering, which is just as well because their nectar-filled flowers are the favourite tucker of numerous birds year round.

This year I am growing sunflowers for the first time in this garden, to amuse my darling granddaughters. They seem to be at their peak right now, but I don't know how long those impressive flowers will last.

The shrubby hebe and waving wands of dieramas behind it make a pretty picture together. The dieramas (AKA fairy wands) are an old-fashioned favourite that came from my mum's garden. They are very hardy and keep growing and flowering with no water and very little attention. I was interested, though, to see them looking greener and blooming more prolifically in the damper, kinder environment where Mum lives.

The 'Burgundy Iceberg' roses just keep on blooming through spring, summer and autumn, though the summer flushes of flowers quickly wilt in the heat. I snip off the spent flowers and new buds quickly form.

In the vegie garden a large lavender attracts bees and other beneficial insects and looks pretty all summer. Another flash of colour in the vegie garden is provided by the windmills, which do a reasonable job of scaring the blackbirds away from the strawberries; that is, as long as the wind is blowing.

Design By Nature

I have written about pattern and texture in nature before on this blog, in 'Try A Little Touchy Feely' back in June, which remains by far my most read blog - I'm sure it's the title that intrigues people; maybe they were expecting something a little more than photos of tree trunks, clouds and rocks.
Anyway, I couldn't resist sharing the wonderful pattern of the inside leaves of a red cabbage I cut today.

Usually, by this stage of the year, there are no cabbages, broccoli etc in the garden because they are annihilated by the cabbage moths if I plant them at the traditionally recommended time. My strategy for many years has been to wait until most of these pests have disappeared before planting any brassicas, usually in April - May. By the time the pests return in October - early November I have harvested most of the crop. This year, though, the red cabbages are very slow to mature and some went straight to seed. The outside leaves of the remaining cabbages are very holey (thanks, cabbage moths), so when I harvested this one I was anxious to see if the damage extended to the inside. As you can see, the inside is undamaged and stunning, a perfect illustration of nature's artistry.

I always choose red cabbages instead of green ones because I like to create pleasing patterns in the vegie garden whenever I can and the gorgeous colour of these at every stage of growth can be just as pretty as a flower bed. (The reds also taste better than the greens and don't give me a gassy tummy.)The photo below shows how the bed looked soon after planting, with its pattern of red cabbages and baby beets. In hindsight, I see that the seedlings were planted too close together for all of them to develop, hence the cabbages that went to seed. They did make a pretty picture though, and that's part of the fun of gardening.

Gone

The redgum on Saturday, above and below.

A couple of days ago I wrote about some lovely old redgums in our park that the environment group was trying to save. According to council's consultant arborists, they posed a danger to the public and had to be cut down. The environment group's arborist disagreed. We hoped for at least a chance to put this latter view to council and present a petition. Though I was doubtful that these particular trees could be saved, I at least thought other views would be listened to and was encouraged in this belief by a councillor I rang about the situation.

A meeting was scheduled for this afternoon between some councillors and a representative of the environment group. Early this morning the loppers had already begun work. By this afternoon, when I passed by, the tree was a stump.

I admit to being a cynic, but surely the time frame of this suggests some questionable actions by someone in authority somewhere along the line.  Community consultation needs some work in our shire.

The redgum this morning.

 . . . and now.

There Was I, Feeling A Little Complacent

During the week a technician came to the house to install our new Smart Meter. He told us we were among the first households in town to have one fitted because houses with solar photovoltaic systems were being done first. He went on to say that there were 200 such houses in Euroa, an unusually high number for the size of the town.

Front page news on the local newspaper this week was that the BP service station in town is now the first retail outlet in Victoria to sell Biofuel B20 (biodiesel, made from renewable resources).

Inside the paper was a story detailing the plans of the Secondary College to develop an ambitious vegetable and fruit garden on the site of the old netball courts. The vegies will be grown in raised beds, constructed by students, and there are plans for 52 fruit trees to go in. The primary school already has a vegie garden and compost system. The photo above shows the start of the Secondary College project.

I was feeling good about the town. At last, people are getting it, I thought. They get that knowing how to grow your own food is important, that the environment is not an optional extra, that we need to take some personal measures to lighten our environmental footprints.

And then . . . We received an email saying that two old redgums in the park were to be cut down, unnecessarily according to the environment group spokesperson. I went to a meeting in the park this morning, where an experienced arborist explained that the two trees in question did not pose any unusual danger, but one of them could do with having some branches overhanging a road trimmed off, for safety reasons.

It was heartening that there were about 50 people there to show their concerns about this, especially as the meeting was called at very short notice. It was interesting to note, though, that nearly all were in the over 55 age group and that no councillors or council officers attended. We signed a petition and it was suggested that we go home and contact a councillor, as work is scheduled to begin on Monday. This I did. The councillor assured me that two arborists had given an opinion that the trees were unsafe and had to be cut down. I was also told that there had been community consultation about the matter. The environment group spokesperson had said this was not the case. Perhaps there is a lack of understanding and agreement on just what 'community consultation' entails.

What are ordinary people to do when differing claims are made and 'experts' give differing opinions? As far as I could tell, and from the explanations given by the arborist in attendance this morning, the trees in question were in quite good health and did not pose any more danger to the public than redgums anywhere, which are notorious for dropping branches. 

I do not hold out much hope for the survival of these trees. It seems that the bureaucratic mind is already made up. Part of the petition, though, called for a long-term management plan for all the trees in town. Perhaps there is more hope of this becoming a reality. 

On balance, I still think many people are getting it, just not enough people, not quickly enough and not enough (in the case of councils) to realise that being smart environmental custodians ultimately involves much more than avoidance of potential litigation.

Fantastically Fruitful

Yesterday I harvested the first few fruits of our small apricot crop. Homegrown apricots fresh and warm from the tree are a world apart from those available in the supermarket, which seem to be either hard and tart or floury and tasteless. Mind you, apricots are probably our least successful crop - I suspect the varieties we have need more chilling hours than our climate usually provides - but the taste sensation of our precious few fruits is worth the effort.

Also being harvested at present are strawberries and youngberries, both producing in abundance. Any fruits we don't eat each day are washed, dried and frozen. Some will be used to make strawberry sorbet, the rest are kept until a cold winter's day when I will make jam. (There are two strawberry sorbet recipes in Gardens For All Seasons, one with mango and one so quick you won't believe it.)

Our mouths are watering for the nectarines, which should be ready to harvest in a week or so and which we watch every day in anticipation. Despite a quite bad case of curly leaf this season, the nectarines will give us a good crop; the peaches were more badly affected, but we'll still get a few. The Satsuma plums will not be ready for another couple of months. The dangling CD's  and windchimes you can see in the photos are our so-far-successful strategy for keeping the birds off the fruit.

The plums, nectarines, apricots and peaches are all from multigrafted trees grown on dwarfing rootstock, so we can have several productive fruits in a small area. There are also two multigrafted citrus trees, one of which still holds a few lemons waiting to be harvested.

The self-sown canteloupes in the vegie beds will give us delicious fruit in autumn. A feijoa tree planted a few years ago is fruiting for the first time and that too should fruit in autumn.
All this fruit (as well as the vegies and aquaponics system) is grown in quite a small space (one day I'll measure the area), no bigger than most suburban backyards.
Along with all this fruit, produce from our vegie garden is prolific at the moment. Last night, while Rodney caught and despatched most of the trout from the aquaponics system, I harvested the last of the parsnips, freeing that tank bed for more beans. The last of the broad beans are ready to pick, leaving that space available for corn. We are eating beans, broad beans, zucchini, red onions, mixed lettuce and baby Swiss chard. Tomatoes, cucumbers, garlic, potatoes and capsicums are developing nicely.

I haven't mentioned the numerous herbs that are in pots and other small spots; the nasturtium flowers and leaves that go in salads; the daylilies which we could eat but don't; the amaranth with its edible leaves and seeds, but which I'll be leaving so granddaughters can play with the long tassels; the sunflowers grown as a cubby for granddaughters . . .  It is a fantastically fruitful small food garden.

If you have any size of backyard (or front garden), you can grow lots of food. If you have a courtyard or balcony, you'll be surprised at how much you can grow once you put your mind to it. 

To get started in the garden see Creating Your Eco-Friendly Garden.

For heaps of ideas about growing food in small spaces see Fabulous Food From Every Small Garden.

To keep your garden in top shape all year round, have lots of fun in the garden and learn fascinating things about gardening and the environment see my new book Gardens For All Seasons. 

All published by CSIRO Publishing.

Conversation With A Cocky Killer

In the local supermarket yesterday, I was behind an older lady at the checkout. I have been behind her before and know that she dithers and takes a long time to get her few purchases through. However, bearing in mind that it could be me dithering in the supermarket queue in the future, I am patient and understanding, assuring her, when she repeatedly apologises, that I don't mind the wait.

The lady's shopping included several packets of rolled oats, more than you would expect a single old person to need, but I didn't think much about it, maybe it was a bargain this week. The teenage checkout operator was sent scurrying to the back of the shop to fetch some cat mince for her. While we waited, she began to talk to me, telling me that she bought the oats to feed the cockies (sulphur-crested cockatoos) in her garden. They began visiting, apparently, during the drought a few years ago, she started feeding them out of kindness ('I'm too soft-hearted, I'm a soft touch when it comes to animals.') and they have stayed. She said that she knew many people did not like the cockies in their gardens and asked me if I liked them. I assured her that they frequently visited my red gums and that I didn't mind, whereupon I became, in her words, a 'very kind person'.

Before the checkout operator returned, she had time to tell me that a lot of the cockies got sick, their feathers became oily and their beaks were malformed so they couldn't eat. Some of them even died in her garden. 'But I look after them. I give them oats and sometimes buy them seeds as well.'

How could I tell this kind-hearted old lady that it was probably her 'kindness' in feeding them the wrong diet that was making them sick and killing them? I'm no expert on bird diseases, but think it's likely that her source of free food would be attracting more cockies than would normally visit a town garden and they would be infecting each other with whatever illness the inappropriate diet has brought about.

When the checkout operator returned and finished scanning her groceries, she gave him the chocolate bar she had bought, thanking him and saying, 'They're aways very kind to me in here'. By that time we had established that the checkout operator (indeed all the supermarket staff) were very kind to her, I was a very kind person for waiting patiently and engaging in a conversation with her (really more of a monologue) and she herself was kind because she fed the birds (and the cats, but that's another story!).

Oh dear, there is no way I could have told her she was killing the cockies with kindness.



 

Nostalgia: Tears, Smiles and Open Gardens

I made a trip to Rufffy today, where Bradley and Stacy went to primary school. Though it was far from my first trip back to the area since we left there 10 years ago, such trips can still arouse feelings of nostalgia for what were, in retrospect, happy (most of the time) years. The school is still there, though not as a school any longer; it is now a community centre. Still there, too, are the bricks with Bradley's and Stacy's names on them in a little paved area, and if they were looked at through a teary haze, no one was there to notice.

The reason for the trip was an art show, held in the Ruffy Hall, scene of many an excruciatingly long and uncomfortable school concert, where the children of this small, isolated community gained confidence and showed off their developing skills through public performances. The hall has changed significantly, but it was not too hard to replace (in my imagination) the works of art that were displayed with smiling, expectant faces and the buzz of excited youngsters who knew that, after the performance, there would be food and a visit from Santa.

Part of the attraction today was the fact that there were several open gardens in the district to visit. These were all large gardens, set around impressive homestead buildings. I was able to take numerous photos and enjoy the ambience of gardens that were themselves works of art, lovingly tended by their proud owners who generously opened them today to raise money for improvements to the hall. There were so many photo opportunities that it is hard to choose a few to share with you, maybe there'll be some more another day. I hope they make you smile.

The cattle, at the top, watched me as I admired the irises, below.



The Snail Stomp

Sensitive souls and snail lovers, please stop here.

It rained early this morning, after quite a dry spell here. At 10:30 am the rain seemed to have stopped so I set off for a walk, deciding to first stroll around the garden.

What did I see but an army of snails, brought out of hiding by the dampness, sliding across the grass, all over the pigface, up between the spines of cactus plants. I am not kidding when I say they were actually in clusters, especially around/in/under the pigface. This has always been a snaily garden, even when we first bought the land and there was no garden here, but, this morning's battalions of them were almost beyond belief.

An hour and hundreds of dead snails later, I set off on my walk.

You can have your beer traps and your environment-friendly baits (both moderately effective) and whatever other traps you can devise, nothing, but nothing, beats a determined snail stomp on a damp day after a dry spell.

I have decided that the pigface, which has spread way beyond where I originally wanted it anyway, has to go. The snails love it too much.

It's The Vibes

This post is a quick follow-up to yesterday's. I wrote about talking to the flowers and speculated about how/if plants respond to speech/music/vibrations. Last night I watched David Attenborough's 'Kingdom Of Plants'. Wow! 

It seems there is a particular flower that emits its pollen in response to the pitch of the buzz of a particular bee. Hence, in the wild, it relies totally on that one bee species for its pollination. How amazing is that? As said bee is not present at Kew Gardens in London, where the show was filmed, David Attenborough then demonstrated the process using a tuning fork.

Yes, plants do respond to vibrations, so it is possible that they respond to the vibrations of the human voice as well.

I can't help wondering: How specific is this bee-pollinator relationship if the flower responds to a tuning fork? Perhaps there are other bees or insects that emit a sound of the required pitch. 

The bee and flower pictured are not those referred to in the program.