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You can rely on wombats. Not to leave your carnations alone (wombats love carnation buds. I stewed some in a sugar syrup and realised why - they have a rich, almost mulled wine, spicy flavour) or to work out how to get their heads out of a plastic bucket (which just happens to be about the same diameter as Bruiser wombat's shoulders). But wombats know the weather. Our local wombats i nformed us via an ent husiastic mating season that last summer was going to be okay. The black wattles, indigophera and black-tailed wallabies agreed - few seeds set on the wattle, no pinky-red tide of indigophera blossom along the hill in spring and every female wallaby had a joey at heel as well as in the pouch. But wombats - and wallabies and wattle and indigophera - only care about their own small patch. We had a gentle summer here at this end of the valley - only ten days like the backblocks of hell with temperatures just over 50ºC. There was still plenty of grass, which is all that really mattered to the wombats, not to mention fallen apples and pears and avocadoes. The fact that the world just over the ridges was brown didn't matter to them. Australia is only one country politically, and even that is recent. It was over 400 nations just a few hundreds years ago, each with its own law and lore, and it is many thousands of nations ecologically - according to its wildlife - and its bushfires. We are not one country to a wombat or a bushfire. We are many. Any 'one size fits all' solution is going to be too simplified to be accurate. In some cases it may be deadly. We need more words for 'bush'... or maybe just to educate people how to use 'wet sclerophyll' in everyday conversation, to know that Eucalyptus regnans forests (which need an intensely hot fire to germinate their seeds) vary from Eucryphia mooreii forests, where you're unlikely to have a crown fire that consumes everything in its path. For that matter perhaps we need to have more words for 'fire' too, just as there are supposed to be a vast number of words for 'snow' for those whose ancestors have long lived with it. We'd have 'fire that creeps through the bush with a damp southerly behind it', 'fire which explodes from tree to tree' and 'breath of hell fire that will burn anything, till the ground is fused black behind it.' Control burning won't affect a fire like that - but it may slow down fires at other times, or in other 'countries' ... though I'd declare the area 'open' for a couple of months before any planned burn, so that the bark, tussock and other material could be harvested. What we really need is a government that spends more brain time creating visions of what our country can be, instead of finding creative ways to say 'it isn't our fault.' Dream on. Winter planting We are also many nations when it comes to gardens. It's taken me decades to learn what survives here, and which plants will keep reseeding themselves from year to year. I've only realised lately that as the dry years have passed I've changed the times I plant things. I used to put in seeds all through summer. These days with no summer water at all for vegies or fruit except the little that falls from the sky, I plant fast growers in spring and autumn. But more and more I'm relying on perennial veg instead. Perennials of any sort have big roots, so they can 'live on their hump' like camels. They can wither in heatwaves and shoot when it rains. And if you have a bad year - family illness, or just too pooped to plant - they'll still be there. There is enormous security in knowing that even if you don't do any planting at all, you can still wander out and pick baskets full of perennial bell peppers or chillies, zucchini-like day-old chilcayotes, perennial leeks or 'five year' or 'runner' beans... All of this means that winter is now one of my main planting times, not just the season to bung in the onions. It's also the season to mulch - not because it's best to mulch now, but because you won't get heat stroke, the new weeds won't get a toe hold in bare earth come spring, and the old weeds won't have a chance to seed. Perennials to plant now As I said - we're many nations. Choose the ones that suit your climate and your appetite. Cassava The real necessity is moist soil, at least five hot months and preferably seven or eight frost-free months. Plant sets or corms, about 30 cm apart. Harvest when the leaves yellow in late autumn - or when frost is about to hit. Keep corms for next year. I've only ever had the fat tubers baked. They were superb. There are hundreds of other ways to use it, but I haven't tried them. Lab Lab Beans and Pigeon Peas Arrowroot Artichokes Bamboo |
Basil, perennial
The Bell pepper, shown here in Jackie's garden, is a perennial Bell pepper Cardoon Perennials for spring planting Perennial or runner beans, possibly so-named because they run up trellises. These are climbers, and the beans become tough when over mature. There are at least five varieties in Australia. Either pick them tiny to use as green beans, or let them hang on the trellis till the seeds are dry - great cooked in winter. They don't bear well in hot weather unless the vines are semi-shaded. Mulch the roots well, as they get bigger every year and can rot in winter or wet weather once they are exposed to the air. Amaranth Asparagus Chicory, Italian red-stemmed Chilli, perennial Chilacayote melon Chives
The choko, seen here also growing in Jackie’s garden, is hardy down to about 5ºC in a sheltered spot. Photo: Jackie French. Chokos Corn Salad P.P.S. The pic of me on the last cover was taken with a flash, which disguised the wrinkles. I only look like that in a very good light. |