Flower Power

For He's A Jolly Good Yellow

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

There is no better floral tribute to the memory of a cherished family member than flowers from your own garden. Our home this weekend was full of the scent of roses, in honour of someone who enjoyed walking through our garden at this time of year and always commented on how the scent of our many rose bushes along the entire perimeter of our property simply filled the warm spring air.

The roses are just coming into bloom now. I cut them back in early August, much later than other gardeners, for a simple reason. I don't believe in pruning while we still have winter frost. So I cut back when the nights are (fractionally) warmer and the roses seem to reward my thought process.

Each plant is thriving despite the dry weather, the arid September and the fact that because of water restrictions, we cannot water our lawns. Our garden is now an array of colours and scents and so from this point onwards, while the rest of the world readies for winter, our vases at home are full of a profusion of the beat that Nature has to offer.

These roses are from a climbing Freesia variety. I never used to be a fan of climbing roses until I bought one by mistake a few years ago. It now occupies about seven or eight metres (roughly 24 feet) across part of our back fence and I guess that convinced me that there is always room in a garden for more of the climbing variety.

These yellow roses were chosen to complement the colour of our bricks. Interestingly enough, I often get asked why I don't have a traditional wooden trellis supporting them. That's when I take people closer, to notice the subtle wire mesh across the brickwork, strong enough to support a heavy rose as it arches across an expanse, but slim enough not to be noticed.

By the way, you did notice the reflection in this last shot, didn't you? Sometimes even a six-footer has to stand on a chair to get that sort of angle.

Visit Luiz Santilli Jr for the home of Today's Flowers.

Tom And Cherry

Despite The Frost, The Blooms Are Appearing

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

The power of Nature never ceases to amaze me. We've had heavy frost every morning, with the lawns looking as if someone's spray-painted them white. We've had ice on the cars every morning. But the cherry and quince trees that began budding three weeks ago are now starting to open coyly into tiny pink starbursts. It's almost as if the branches are covered with minuscule pieces of pink popcorn.

The golden wattle is in full bloom as well, a sure reminder that there is just over a month to go until spring. And the days are getting longer, too. Every evening the sun sets about a minute later and the long evening shadows have a certain golden glow to them.

And if you look carefully at the frame below, you'll see raindrops on the gently curved branches. To a land hit hard by drought, there can be no greater blessing.

Yellow Fever

Maybe I Could Have Done Butter With This One

Photograph copyright: DAVID McMAHON

This shot of a clump of daffodils was taken two weeks ago. I was not entirely happy with the result, because my point of focus was the central bloom alone, while trying to highlight the bulbous parts of the other blooms on the right. Last weekend I thought I'd try repeating the shot from a different perspective, but the daffodils were already starting to look a bit tacky after the heavy frosts. Still, the bright yellow is a nice reminder that spring is only ten days away.

Looking at the high-res version of the shot, I noticed inconspicuous little white spikes, like miniature fangs, on the extremities of the blooms. Maybe one of you keen gardeners out there like Ruth or Mike would be able to explain this curiosity to me. Wish I'd noticed it earlier, so I could have shot the flowers to get the white spikes in clear focus.

And yes, while the rest of the world enjoys summer, there is a heavy frost outside as I write this here in Melbourne, where it's just after seven o'clock on Wednesday morning.

FOOTNOTE: That's cold comfort for some gardeners.