Of Flowering

Olivine Landscape

Olivine is my favourite mineral. When its quality is high enough for it to be cut as a gem, it's known as Peridot. 

Look for Olivine "bombs" in amongst scoria gravel. They range in size from a walnut to a lemon. The mineral itself often crumbles.

It is found beyond Earth, even in meteorites. Its earliest known classical source was at St. John's Island ( now Zabargad island ) in the Red Sea.

Victoria's largest deposit is at Mortlake, in the western district. These samples come from there.

Installed here is my die-cast lamb, appropriate representitive of the world-famous wool that has been grown in this region of extinct volcanoes.

None of us would exist without the valuable generosity of the earth given to us. 

Emblematic of purity and morality, and of spring, Olivine/Peridot is supposed to ward off negativity.

Zara - My New Doggy

I've been wanting to get another dog since 'Ulysses' died in 2005. Sometimes things fall into place when you're not trying... I've called my new doggy 'Zara' - Arabic for "bright as the dawn". When we first saw each other, there was an uncanny feeling we'd be together. A neighbour of mine had been given her by a near stranger, who'd obviously mistreated her...she was extremely shy. My neighbour then proceded to lose her, but not before he'd offered her to me. After three days on her own in our back paddock, I found her, but it took me two hours to coax her to me...I gardened under some eucalypts, letting her know I was there if she needed me, and wasn't out to hurt her. Gradually she circled closer, until, as night was coming on, and rain beginning to fall, there she was, a metre away, curled up on a bed of grass clippings. Very gently I picked her up and stowed her away. Since then, she has been flowering beautifully. I hope you can see what I can see:

Gardener, Quiet

Gardener, Quiet 

Whether I went 
up the garden path 

or wandered off it, 
it was all garden, 
wherever I looked. 
And I bonded there. 

The blood I'd got 
from my past, blood
of hands, hands tilling, 
grew branches

from my heart, 
and bore this prayer: 
let me stay 
in this verdure forever, 

if I'm to stay 
anywhere.

Escape to Burnley Gardens

Just a few kilometres from Melbourne's CBD, and across from the Yarra river ( unfortunately, too, close to the roaring Monash Freeway ), lie Burnley Gardens. Opened in 1863 by the Horticultural Society of Victoria, they now house Burnley Horticultural College, a part of the University of Melbourne.
Having lived nearby for many years, I returned today, and again found myself the almost sole visitor to this little-known sanctuary. It transports me to a feeling of 'home'.
You see this serpentine pool of water with its papyrus as you enter, occasioned by wood duck:

Above me I saw yellow-tailed black cockatoos ( Calyptortynchus funereus ) and heard a kookaburra laughing. Some of my favourite trees are here, among them this bunya bunya ( Araucaria bidwillii ) and this Wollemi pine ( Wollemi nobilis - only discovered in 1994 ):

 

Some of the vistas are magnificent, in a quiet way:

There are any number of the weird and wonderful:

This ( above ) is the feltbush ( Kalanchoe beharensis ). Below is a grass and a shrub I can't identify, Aloe bainesii and mottlecah ( Eucalyptus macrocarpa ):

 

This South African coral tree ( Erythrina caffra ) has amazingly warty bark:

This fountain is in the Herb Garden:

The native Australian garden, apart from being neglected in places, is perhaps my favourite part:

Coast banksia ( Banksia integrifolia ) and the Acorn banksia ( Banksia prionotes ):

The gymea lily ( its gigantic red flower spikes not yet bursting out - Doryanthes excelsa ):

And, lastly, perhaps, what I see as perhaps the most beautiful tree on site, this sugar gum ( Eucalyptus cladocalyx ):

Liquidambar Honey and Jam

There are two North American Liquidambar styraciflua on the property - one still has alot of green - the other's now lost most of its glorious autumn foliage, leaving drifts and carpets...

Trust

 

 

Under branches extending
through lull and through strife,

we trust there's a plot
in the garden of life,

where yielding our view
with a heart that won't harden

will cultivate hope
in the life of the garden.    

Faisal Grant, May, 2011.