Though autumn's a time of dying, here where summer's been torturous, it comes as an agent of revival.
This being the Antipodes - where practice is sort of upside down - many native plants come into flower and magpies start to breed. Autumn comes as if it were spring. Our springs are not so much a re-birth as a riot.
So for the human gardener there's running around to be done, the clock of coldness beginning to tick. Above is the beginning of a new procession along a wall too hot and exposed to have been dealt with in summer.
And here a bit of a jumble...good to see because there's only been dessication and a sort of hard-held forbearance till this easing has come.
Aspidistras - which I shall keep flying - are one of my favourite plants, and it's now they seem to wake up - and wake up their neighbourhood.
There's a feeling of relief for me that so many things have survived and have now seemed to have got back their zoomph.
This above is the beginning of what will be filled with foliage. Makeshift, sparse, reduced; soon, as the glowing, glaring days grow shorter, life will re-colonise.
I salute this land made to be barren, then made to go forth to multiply.