A gardener's strategies for surviving another Australian summer

I spent several hours in the garden this morning, amazed at how much has survived our second relentless hot and dry summer in Cow Flat.

Dominating one of the embankments is a thriving golden diosma, that most pedestrian of little plants, useful if you want to fill a space or create a hedge. This one was given to me as a gift when I moved in, and given my personal plant prejudices, I tucked it between a collection of more interesting things, all of which have now died. I did not particularly nurture that plant, and each time I spotted it growing wildly, I wondered why. I guessed it just liked being here. This year I bought a couple more. There is wisdom in here, somewhere.

Everything is under a blanket of heavy mulch, but acclimatized plants push through with great determination. When the hot weather set in I decided to dig up a few plants - notably the passionfruit pictured above-  that were struggling and put them in my Mercy Garden close to the house, where I could water them with whatever we saved from the shower and washing machine.



 I planted the passionfruit  last summer thinking that because Bunnings sold them, they must suit this climate. A local gardener told me I was throwing my money away because the frost would kill it. But this one had survived the frost, so I dug it up and tossed it into a half wine barrel and tied it to some wire mesh I'd also dug up, added a bag of  mushroom compost, and away she went.

 Everything in pots is looking cheerful. I am now grateful for the pile of pots I have stored behind the shed, and I've been spraying them bright colours and filling them with herbs, spinach, tomatoes, beans, and all sorts of flowers that would not thrive in very dry ground.

I realise now that my earliest plan of preserving everything that was already growing here, was a good plan. Adding new plants was a bad idea.Although I cannot identify many of the plants that are popping up, I welcome them.

This morning I felt very satisfied with the garden. Although we have only had two small bouts of rain (less than 10ml) for the entire summer, the mulch has done its work, the roses are thriving, and the acclimatised plants provide a hedge of green.

This will never be a luscious English garden. It will always be dry borders to survive the Australian sun. But I am now planning ways to capture whatever rain that does fall and store it in the ground. It means more heavy equipment this winter to build swales of gravel and sand - but perhaps paying careful attention to these structural issues will be salvation for this garden.

The Apothacary garden

I have never been much interested in structures in the garden, but given our climatic conditions, interesting structural things become essential. I bought this winged Griffin cheaply at a market - he had a chipped ear which has been repaired, and he is the cornerpiece of my Apothacary garden which will contain medicinal herbs and dye plants. The dye plants are for my own colour vats and the alpaca and merino which I am spinning. I have already planted things like comfrey and Jerusalem artichoke and sage, which grow like weeds elsewhere - but they're stuggling here in the summer - you can see their brave beginnings next to the Griffin.

I bought the sundial from my friend Aaron who owns a big barn of old wares. I have asked him to find me all kinds of things - right down to the vintage inkwell for a specific kind of old school desk - and sure enough, he can come up with it. The sundial is facing due north and it most certainly works! The stones were bought as a random lot from the shop next door to the tip - I will sweep mushroom compost between the stones and fill the gaps with seeds of small flowers and creepers.

There are three brown-red shoots coming through the mulch - someone told me these are called Pink ladies, but I have also been told Bella Donna Lilies. They are popping up everywhere and make a great show

The "Bella Donnas" (corrections welcome) coming up through the mulch against a hedge of geraniums also unafraid of the drought.

Beautiful in their own way, the relics from the rust gallery make their way back to the garden where they were originally found, half buried and forgotten.

This piece of iron was apparently made by a firm called Bellamy's in Byng Street, London. Wonder what it did.