Clouds of change...
Began to form during Easter Monday’s late afternoon. I hadn’t been intent on photographing them as I might have been…but was walking back from ‘moving the cows’ with Larry. In fact my attention was drawn quickly away from their reflection in the still waters of the dam, and the tall, grassy seed heads across the paddocks, highlighted as they were by the golden light of the sun’s dying rays; by the gentle clip-clop of horse’s hooves on the road…as first one, then another, then two more riders passed by at a gentle pace. One by one, we waved to each other…a scene reminiscent of another time, when during our early days here, the sight of riders passing by was a more regular occurrence.
The clouds though, were voluminous in parts, though thin in others…the distant ones the other side of the hill suggesting likely squalls between us and the coast, and we could only hope they might build in a more satisfactory way over us too. ‘Clouding’ (in association with Constable) is a descriptor inclined to cross my mind when the sky is in moody display…but I just entered those two words into google to no avail; only ‘cloud study’ appears, though the coupling of those two words are clear as day in my mind. I think, if I were to search back through the multitude of files I have stored here, that I would find an article from long ago…pairing that imaginative word with a ream of pages of Constable’s cloud studies, conjuring eruptions of beauty captured with paint and brush.
The colouring of autumn leaves began exactly a week before…a mere speckling of gold and russet leaves at first, but now they’re steadily gathering pace. I love the ‘quincunx’ - a collection of five Pin Oaks Quercus palustris fenced-in to the rise above the dams. We planted them quite early on…well, I’m guessing about thirty years ago, as they were part of the second wave of planting after purchasing the land between ‘us’ and the church (gulp…I don’t think we’ve ever recovered!). But I’m so glad we did…as I believe holding landscape together…soil in tact and nurtured, is as important for the environment as the wellbeing of humanity. It was only the other day I spotted a car nosed-in to our farm gate, from where I know there is a gloriously serene view…and I hope it gave whoever was inside the moment of respite they needed.
How lucky we were those golden glimpses morphed into a week of typical April weather…downpours that end almost as quickly as they’ve begun, fleeting sun, a horizontal shower, a rainbow…a settling…and just when you think it’s all over, down it comes again with a thunderous roar on the tin roof and pelting at the window panes! I think it funny that we’re as inclined to experience these unsettled weather patterns here, in our autumn April, that are not dissimilar to those experienced in the northern hemisphere’s spring April; and they always bring to mind a little poem that lodged in my head as a child, one clearly written on the other side of the globe:
“It sleeted a little, it snowed some too, it rained for a bit then the sky got blue; with a rainbow curving up over the hill, and the sun felt hot but the wind felt chill”…I can’t ever remember the rest and was so delighted when I found the page a few years ago and photographed it (along with its accompanying illustration), because gosh it’s always bugged me I can never recall the remaining lines before the last, which is “That April likes April-fooling too!”
Very naughty me…I was clearly so enchanted I took the pages from the book (at least it was my book!) and taped them into a scrap book! And just as well I did or those lines would forever elude me when the weather patterns behave as they have done this week!
But back to more sensible things! Traditionally I would sow my garlic today, on Anzac Day (about which I wrote at length in a post last year). But this year I have been trying if I can, to plant in sync with the lunar calendar (trying being the optimal word!). As Monday and Tuesday were designated ‘root veg’ days (which I only realised on Monday evening!) I momentarily thought ‘oh for goodness sake…uggghhh’…but when my Tuesday morning meeting saw those visitors away by 1.00…after a quick change, I cut down the three bunches of the largest heads that have been hanging from a timber beam in the potting shed since I tied them up after pulling late last spring. I’m surprised they haven’t yet begun to shoot, but glad of it, because I’m running through those cloves in the kitchen at a rate of knots!
Then it was a case of breaking the heads apart…and separating the largest cloves from those largest heads…in the hope of growing the largest heads of large cloves I possibly can! Once separated, I somehow managed to get them all into the ground between showers - all 188 of them. So now…I cross my fingers. At least I’ve tried. Funny…cos I’ve been growing my own garlic for years and years…saving the heads in the same way, sowing in the same manner (I always rotate them from spot to spot - I never plant them in the same place two years in a row minimum)…and yet I can never be sure I will have a crop at the end of the season…though so far so good! But in the ground they are…and with any luck come late October/early November, I’ll be pulling a haul to get us through next year’s eating.
It is Anzac Day though, and I’ve never before spent it writing. Somehow we’ve never been inclined to attend the dawn service ourselves. My parents didn’t (which I guess sets the inclination to do so), although my paternal grandfather did march and I remember trying to spot him with his Royal Australian Navy cohort on the live, black and white televised stream when I was very young. My maternal grandfather was unable to participate in military service, much to his annoyance. He was deaf in one ear thanks to a car accident in his youth, so didn’t pass the physical/medical tests required to join up; but did act (as I understand it) as a Warden for Double Bay. After the Japanese submarine attack in 1941, he packed my mother and grandmother off to Exeter in the Southern Highlands, where I gather they remained for much of the rest of the war.
You might recall from last week’s post, that I caught up with an old school friend last week, whom I hadn’t seen for thirty years or more. The war…and the impact those years left on our parents and grandparents, was something we touched on during our conversation…both of us acknowledging that during the years we knew each other best (we were at the same school and though a year separated us there, we tap-danced our way together through that entire syllabus on Thursday afternoons and Saturday mornings from age 3 to 16!) the war seemed like ancient history to us; but it had in fact, preceded us by not so many years as our then young imaginations thought. Each of our grandparents had lived through two wars as well as the great depression. I clearly recall ‘interviewing’ my grandparents for a school project and being aghast (growing up as we did in the hip and groovy 60’s and 70’s) at some of the tales they recalled from their earlier lives in Sydney. Those experiences…including the war years, were regaled very much first hand to young ears…whereas our retelling to the next generation…is second hand news.
It’s Larry who has a greater connection to the military than my family, but in his case, the British military. His Pa was a highly decorated Captain in the Royal Navy…participating in many significant roles during his long career - one being the evacuation of the allied troops in Crete (Battle of Crete 1941). But those are Larry’s (not my) stories to tell. Larry’s early career too, was spent in the military; serving with the Irish Guards (yes, he hails from Scotland…it’s long story!) and this September, to honour his late father and commemorate the bravery and sacrifice of allied troops, including many Australians and New Zealanders; and to support the British Army Benevolent Fund, Larry will be participating in the Frontline Crete Trek, Sea to Summit. (I know some of you reading along here are UK based!). Although he’s pretty fit anyway, I do keep suggesting it’s time to buy a pair of walking boots and wear them in!
Although Anzac Day is not a holiday and I know thousands were up for the dawn service, being a special day (and Anzac Day does have an atmosphere all of its own) we tuned the radio to ABC Classic first thing, as we do on Sundays, and I was delighted to hear and begin the day day with a piece that resonates deeply and never fails to give me goosebumps…Peter Sculthorpe’s Small Town.
I guess we all have our own way of remembering and commemorating the enormity of the sacrifice made by our forebears. How I wish the heartfelt thanks and gratitude we feel towards them, could assuage the turmoil and anxiety of the perilous world in which we find ourselves today.
Isn’t this the most wild and evocative mess? I’ve no intention of clearing it up anytime soon…there are pumpkins hiding in there…
Whilst elsewhere things are neat and organised as a pin. The broad beans, just breaking though the surface of the soil this time last week, have grown at least two if not three inches since - prompting me to remove the upturned punnet trays I had protecting them and instead, to toss a net over the structure in haste. I’ve yet to cut and tie on the cross bars - a task for this weekend.
The first germinated pea has even sent out a tentative tendril! This means I need to decide whether to leave the wire cylinders in place for protection (in which case they’ll have to remain in position all season long) or to get the nets out now, as I know even the cylinders won’t protect the immature peas for too much longer: the bower birds are hiding in the hedges, ready to pounce. I’m sure they watch my every move and are just waiting for me to risk leaving these succulent morsels to fend for themselves. How I wish I could!
I spent much of the Easter weekend shovelling compost and pushing it gently through the wire mesh screen, before barrowing it up the shallow incline to the kitchen garden proper. With compost, I find it needs sorting at one end or the other..and personally, I find it easier and quicker to sort the big (that takes a long time to break down) from the small…at the end of the process, rather than the beginning - as during pruning, so many different grades of material go into any given barrowload, it’s just easier to toss the lot into the growing heap and get back to work. As a result, I know we end up with quite a lot of big sticks (of which it’s a big ask to expect them to break completely down in one season) but I reckon they create desirable air passages through the heap during its process of decomposition. So…I just sieve them out at the tail end of the compost-making process, and toss them into the current heap we’re adding to. They all break down eventually. With the interlopers removed…this batch of compost is beautiful!
I then went about creating compartments into which to sow the next round of seed, by using twigs from the last fruit tree pruning. I’m inclined to do this on the ‘guild’ side of the garden as it helps delineate pockets, where it’s otherwise hard to remember where seed is sown…given none of that side of the garden is planted in straight rows. As soon as the compost was on…a few shovel loads at a time, I covered it with mulch; and where I intend to sow seed, with a piece of hessian…just so the precious compost is not exposed to the elements.
I thinned so many self-sown chard and spinach seedlings…giving those that are stronger more space to fill out to their full capacity, and in the process choosing to leave in or weed out self-sown carrots and fennel, love-in-the-mist (Nigella) or anything else I came across…as it’s in the choosing now, that I cause the spring garden to look the way I hope it might. It’s in going through this entire process…of thinning, selectively weeding, adding compost, delineating areas for seed and adding mulch…that I discover the remaining space too, for the final push…the last of the planting for this season, which although it doesn’t align with the lunar calendar (!!!) I intend to complete during the coming week!
I did make the Au pair’s Apple Cake when I left you last week, as I suggested I might! It was dark by the time I pulled it out of the oven, but perfect to eat on Saturday afternoon after a big day in the garden (and Sunday, and Monday!). Here’s the recipe again in case you’re tempted, cos gee…it is delish! If you have it warm (we didn’t!), a dollop of thick cream to accompany it wouldn’t go astray…and this cake would make a fabulous dessert too. But I’m happy with a slice just as it comes, after a big day in the garden!
A few weeks ago Lean Timms came to visit…and she captured this cheeky image of Larry and me down at the Hayshed. It’s a rare thing you’ll find a pic of us these days…together and…not covered in muck! No reason…I guess we’re just more interested in things other than us! But as I do mention Larry rather a lot in these posts…for those who have not met us in real life, here we are! (Thank you dearest Lean…what a trial to capture peeps looking normal…and this one feels very real!).
She also snapped my then favourite pocket of the garden…the sunflowers and amaranth down the back. How quickly it all changes…and this weekend, I’ll cut the now dried sunflower heads to save the seed…for a repeat performance next year.
I send you all warmest wishes for the week ahead. Mx
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Onions, garlic aubergines, zucchinis (trombonchino), tomatoes, coloured chard and spinach; lettuce, rocket (just a few good leaves…I’m so glad the newly sown is sprouting but after a shower of rain, the old are inclined to shoot fine new leaves!), red elk mustard at the four-leaf stage post germination is at its very best. Rhubarb. Basil, lovage, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives. Calendula and nasturtium petals, fennel fronds and tentatively picking a parsnip here and there…they’re beauties, but I don’t feel we’ve reached parsnip-eating territory quite yet…or perhaps it’s just I’d rather they grow on just a wee bit more so they’re larger for the effort put in so far! Introducing a kale leaf or two…although we’re some way yet off a frost for which I ought to wait!
Going / gone: zucchini, basil
Seed saving: parsnip, bean (see pic below), tomato, sunflower
Sowing: peas, broad beans, cima di rapa, carrot, beetroot, parsnip. I forgot to sow parsley and coriander on the last lunar leaf day (or seed day!), so I’m keen to do so at the next likely opportunity. Garlic…if you don’t have it in today, then this weekend. Sweet peas - some peeps seem to use Anzac Day now as their marker to sow (rather than St Patricks Day as was once the case). To be honest, these last years I’ve found they do better sown late, so mine aren’t in yet. Poppy seed…from now into the early weeks of May.
Planting: brassicas (kale, cavolo nero, cabbage, broccoli, kohl rabi, cauliflower), lettuce, radicchio, fennel (bulbing), bok choy and leeks… and continuing to plant these successionally. Flowering ‘stock’. I’m aiming for the final block of planting out this weekend or so. And just as a note - the egg laying of the white cabbage moth is prolific - I’m squishing tiny green caterpillars morning and night!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: tansy, dahlias, random fennel flowers and a few roses. I did pick the sprays of frangipani I suggested I might and how they’ve perfumed my kitchen sink experience this last week - they’re on the windowsill!
Perfumes and aromas: Heliotrope, frangipani
Pruning and other: it’s mostly been kitchen gardening this last week, though I did a little snipping elsewhere…I’ve been trying to train a pineapple guava or Feijoa, that I planted as a tiny slip a few years ago into a substantial mound next to the cubby house in the Barn Garden and although it has a long way to go…it’s beginning to resemble a ball-like mass. The same goes for the Saltbush, so I also gave it a snippity-trim. This weekend I really must remove the long shoots that the citrus trees have sent out yet again. It’s sappy growth that isn’t required and inclined to attract pests, so outside of the kitchen garden, those shoots are top of my list.
By the way…if you’re in Victoria…Jeremy and Grant have their garden ‘The Stones’ open this weekend. How I wish I could get there! Truly…it is a magical space they have created - and what’s more…they’ve been taste-testing local Lamingtons for CWA inspired ‘teas’ and have sealed the deal with one particular bakery in Castlemaine! Remember they came here to spoil us with a presentation about The Stones last year? How I hope they, and all their visitors have the most wonderful time.
Oh Sally that does sound delish! And how exciting to plant new Hellebores. They don't overly like us here - we're not cold enough for long enough, so I had to let go of my early obsession for them, but I do love to see them growing elsewhere and if my mere handful produce even one or two blooms, I'm thrilled to bits!! xx
Showers? Oh dear India how I hope, hope, pray that they develop into something more...the earth will need a gentle softening before it pours, so I hope a wet eases in gently...and that you can indeed sow. Sending love. Mxx