Spring Arrives ... My Dry Tropics Journal ... Beginning of Spring, September 2026

Garden Journal Entry  -  September

Weather Log for the month:

Seasons:  Start of Spring / Dry Season 
Maximum Temps:  26°C - 29°C            
Minimum Temps:  13°C - 22°C
Humidity Levels:  50 - 80%   
Hours of daylight:  12 hrs
Rainfall:  18 mm (0.7 ins.) 

Regular readers would have noticed there's been a bit of a break since my last post - three months in total, our wintertime.  My time over those months was taken up with organising and then taking a long overseas holiday to visit with family.  

Thankfully, while I was out of the country, I did manage to secure the services of a couple of volunteer plant-carers who were able to water the potted plants at least - this certainly made me less anxious about leaving!  The rest of the garden just had to struggle through on its own.

Seasonal Changes

Outlook on the first day of Spring

I returned home on the last day of August and awoke to our first official day of spring. For people living in the northern hemisphere, and indeed much of southern Australia, spring is usually a season to look forward to — warming days, fresh green growth and gardens bursting back into life after winter. Here in the sultry tropics however, it is a rather different story. 

By the time springtime arrives, we are usually just over four months into our dry season and the glorious cool, comfortable weather we enjoyed through late autumn and winter is beginning to disappear. The first month of spring is the precursor to the approaching summertime, bringing with it increasing heat, drying winds, stronger sunshine and rising humidity.   

Since the end of April, there has been very little natural moisture for the garden to work with. We received 0 mm in May, 4 mm of rain during June, followed by 0 mm in July, and 0 mm in August. The weather over the first three weeks of this month occasionally turned a little overcast, with ominous-looking dark clouds hanging around every now and then as though they might finally deliver some rain.  After so many dry months, every dark cloud attracts my attention. 

All that eventuated in those first few weeks though was just a little light drizzle that didn't penetrate the parched earth at all.  Then, we had a day of glorious rain on the day of the Spring equinox.  While only a total of 18 mm fell, it was so refreshing for so many thirsty plants. Any real benefit from this rain however was short-lived because of the blustery winds we experience at this time of the year.

September is the month when the trade winds begin to freshen and it becomes very windy indeed, with gusts often reaching 20-25 km/hr. Around here, locals often refer to these gusty winds as the “mango winds”, because they have an unfortunate habit of blowing the flowers and immature fruit from the mango trees. Here in my garden, they are extraordinarily drying, sweeping across the hillsides and carrying away what little moisture remains near the surface.

Our daytime temperatures have ranged from around 26°C to 29°C, while overnight temperatures have varied between a wonderfully cool 13°C and 22°C. Those cooler nights are still very welcome, and early mornings remain one of the most pleasant times to be outside. By mid-morning, though, there is no mistaking what lies ahead. As the temperature heads towards 30°C and the mango winds begin to stir, the tropical reality starts to reassert itself.

This is a time of struggle and stress for much of the garden. Pots dry out faster and exposed plants wilt more quickly. Even the tough well-established shrubs show their stress with leaves flagging and textures dulled, and the whole garden can look very tired after a run of particularly windy days. 

Garden Conditions & Jobs: 

Looking across the parched front yard towards the dry bushland beyond.

The Bushland & Exposed Outdoor Garden Beds -

I garden on a rocky granite hillside so months without rain means much of the property becomes one huge expanse of dry, parched ground at this time of the year. The grasses and less-protected plants die off, die back or simply look rather miserable for much of the dry season. The earth becomes dusty and bare and the whole landscape takes on the muted browns and greys that are so typical of late winter and early spring in this part of northern Queensland.

The ground becomes so hard and dry, especially in the exposed areas, that even the older established plants start to show signs of thirst after four months of dry weather. Down the driveway, the Crotons, the Durantas and the Pseudomussaenda flavas have all dropped a load of leaves. It is one of those unmistakable signs that the dry season has been going on for some time.

Ferns in exposed spots are sizzled by the sunshine & exposed garden spots look tired and thirsty.

The clumps of Giant Sword Ferns beside the hill driveway and in the bed at the front of the house are finding conditions particularly difficult as well. They have started sizzling in the bright sunshine and dying back, as the soil becomes increasingly dry.  Some of the outdoor garden beds are looking decidedly unattractive.

Keeping an eye out for plants in distress becomes one of the biggest jobs around the property at this time of year. When needed, I water deeply enough to reach the roots rather than simply wetting the dusty surface, and mulch becomes especially valuable for slowing moisture loss and protecting the soil from the increasingly intense sun and drying winds. By September, occasional deep watering (maybe twice a month) becomes a necessity in the outdoor garden beds, and that often results in additional water costs on our council rates!

After leaving the sprinkler on overnight to give the area a deep watering, tiny new shoots have started appearing on the Duranta branches, and on the tips of the Croton and Pseudomussaenda branches.  I will be applying a light dose of fertiliser next to encourage further recovery.

Parched Duranta responding to deep watering with new growth.

Massive leaf debris dropped by Crotons during the dry season and new growth appearing at the end of denuded branches.

Thankfully, not everything looks unhappy outdoors. Many of the other old established trees and shrubs continue on with their seasonal cycles and are producing their first new foliage of the spring. It is such a small thing, but these are the sights that gladden the heart when so much of the surrounding landscape is looking drab, dusty and dreary.

New springtime foliage appearing on the deciduous Plumerias

The old deciduous Plumerias growing in the driveway area are showing no obvious signs of distress and are throwing out new foliage. 

New growth on the Lagerstroemia speciosa emerges with a reddish-bronze tint
after its dormant winter period

The two deciduous Lagerstroemia speciosa (commonly known as Queen's Crepe Myrtle) trees standing on our property are both producing new foliage as well, right on time at the beginning of our spring.

New leaf growth appearing on the Sterculia quadrifida after the tree had finished flowering 
and shed its leaf load over the winter months

The native Sterculia quadrifida, commonly known as the Peanut Tree, is also throwing out new flushes of bright green springtime leaf growth

There are also little splashes of colour scattered throughout the outdoor garden beds, the perfect antidote to the surrounding parched landscape. 

There are still a few blooms on the Calliandra surinamensis, 

and the last of the flowers on the Tabebuia impetiginosa are still on show. 

The Bauhinia variegata ‘Alba’ is also carrying some beautiful stark white blooms, 

and a few Gerberas are flowering.

The Protected Shadehouse & Courtyard Gardens -

Thankfully, it is still pleasant enough during the daytime to wander through the shadehouse garden and courtyard garden, and these are the areas where I spend much of my time at this time of year.

I think of them as colourful outdoor rooms. Shaded and sheltered from the harshest conditions, they remain little havens while the larger garden beyond becomes progressively drier. 

I can find myself wandering out to these sanctuary spaces anything up to twenty times a day. Sometimes it is to do a little daily watering or move potted plants around as the shade conditions change. Other times I'm deadheading, fertilising, weeding, trimming or simply checking to see what has changed since the last visit. And, of course, there is always time for a bit of a chat with the residents — whether they happen to be plant or animal.

There is something comforting about these small daily wanderings. Even during the harshest part of the dry season there is always something to notice: a new leaf, a flower beginning to open, a bird visiting the courtyard, or a plant quietly recovering after a drink.

The Spathiphyllums, or Peace Lilies, are beginning to show off their distinctive white flower bracts in the shadehouse, 

while the Begonia nelumbifolia is producing lots of flower sprays.

The various potted and hanging Impatiens continue doing what they do so reliably here — flowering almost all year round and bringing welcome splashes of colour to the shaded parts of the garden.

These little pockets of colour are the saving grace of spring. When the surrounding landscape turns austere, these sheltered spaces become small acts of optimism.

Garden Highlights  

Eucalyptus platyphylla, commonly known as the White Gum or Poplar Gum, become far more noticeable during the dry season

Out in the bushland paddock, the stark white bark of the Eucalyptus platyphylla shows up in all its glory as the sun sets.  As these trees drop so much of their leaf load over the span of the dry season, you get to see nearly all of the trunk and branches of these magnificent trees.

The blooms of the Adenium obesum, commonly known as Desert Rose, add such a pretty splash of colour to some of the outdoor garden beds.

The patch of Kalanchoe fedtschenkoi, commonly known as Lavender Scallops, that grows beside the car shed is covered in its bell-shaped, downward-dropping, salmon-orange flowers.

There are a couple of Salvias showing off their flower sprays in both the courtyard and the shadehouse gardens. Insects and butterflies have been feasting on the Angelonia, Salvia, Pentas, Plectranthus and Impatiens blooms out in the courtyard garden.

Both of the potted Dracaena godseffiana, commonly known as the Gold Dust Dracaena, are producing their distinct spherical dark green berries at the moment.

The Eucharis amazonica (apparently now known as Urceolina amazonica), commonly known as the Amazon Lily or Eucharist Lily, is showing off its striking white daffodil-like flowers once more.  

What else is flowering in September?

Looking Towards Summer

So this is spring in my garden on the rural outskirts of Townsville.

Not the soft, green, flower-filled season that the word “spring” might conjure up elsewhere, but a season of transition — of hot dry winds, falling leaves, thirsty plants and increasing heat. There are dark clouds gathering from time to time now, teasing us with the possibility of rain, but so far they have delivered very little.

The trade winds have been freshening, blowing across the garden with their familiar September persistence. The mango trees may not appreciate them, and neither do many of the more delicate plants, but these winds are as much a part of spring here as warming days and lengthening afternoons.

For now, I will keep watering, trimming, deadheading and wandering through my colourful outdoor rooms, chatting to their residents and keeping a close eye on those plants beginning to struggle. Like the garden itself, I will wait for the wet season because here in the dry tropics, spring is not so much the beginning of something as it is the long, hot, windy bridge between our glorious winter and the arrival of the life-giving summer rains.

The Dry Season Settles In ... My Dry Tropics Journal ... End-of-Autumn, May 2026

Garden Journal Entry  -  May

Weather Log for the month:

Seasons:  End-of-Autumn / Dry Season 
Maximum Temps:  25°C - 31°C            
Minimum Temps:  11°C - 22°C
Humidity Levels:  40 - 70%   
Hours of daylight:  11 hrs 10 mins
Rainfall:  0 mm (0 ins.) 

May: a true threshold month in the garden

By the end of May, the garden no longer feels newly released from the wet season. That was April’s story — the relief of being able to garden again, the first proper clean-up, and the great return to jobs that had felt almost impossible during the long, hot, humid months.

May feels different.

The rain has stopped. The air is drier. The ground is now very firm underfoot, and the sky has taken on that enormous dry-season blue that seems to stretch forever above the garden.

The days are still warm — this is North Queensland after all — but there is less weight in the air now. The afternoons are softer and the evenings are cooler. Not a southern winter chill, of course, but that lovely dry-tropics coolness that arrives almost as a surprise after months of heat and humidity.

Our tropical winter is approaching.

Garden Conditions

This is the month when the garden asks for small, sensible attention rather than big dramatic effort.

A little mulch here. A shifted pot there. Some trimming. Some watering decisions. Some slow wandering and close looking.

The garden is still green, but 0 mm of rain for the month tells its own story. May is the time to start thinking ahead and looking at the garden with dry-season eyes. Which plants will need more shelter as the dry continues? Which pots are too exposed? Which ones are too far from the hose? Which garden beds need topping up before the soil begins to dry out properly?

The same pots that were too wet in February will dry out quickly in the clearer, breezier weather. May is a good month for rethinking positions, rescuing tired specimens, and deciding which containers deserve the prime spots close to water.

The skies have been stunning — wide, bright, brilliant blue — and they have changed the whole feeling of the garden. After the greyness and heaviness of the wet season months, that clear blue sky makes everything feel lighter and more open.

These are the mornings when I find myself noticing the smaller things. A plant that has quietly improved. A flower hanging on longer than expected. A fern looking particularly pleased with itself in the shade house. A patch of weeds that is not going to pull itself out, no matter how patiently I ignore it.

Gardening Tasks

May has been a month of pottering in the best sense of the word — noticing, adjusting, rescuing, shifting, trimming, and slowly setting the garden up for what comes next.

Mulching is vital for the outdoor garden beds particularly for the
- spaces with poor soil that are exposed to mostly direct sunlight during the hottest part of the day (on the left)
- and the spaces that have only recently been established and need care (on the right).

Mulching has become one of the important dry-season jobs. It may not be the glamorous side of gardening, but it is one of the most useful. A good layer of mulch helps keep moisture in the soil, protects roots, and gives the garden a better chance of moving through the dry months without too much stress.

Potted plants have also needed attention. I have been moving some into better light, giving others a little more shelter, and generally trying to make sensible decisions before the dry season properly settles in.

There has also been weeding, of course.

Weeds creep through in between pavers, colonise garden edges, and pop up between treasured plants in garden beds and pots. Some are still easy to pull while the soil holds a little moisture. Others have already made themselves far too comfortable.

This is also a good time to notice what has self-seeded. I rarely find welcome little volunteers. They are usually future thugs in disguise. The trick is learning which is which before the garden makes the decision for you.

There is something satisfying about May weeding though. It feels less like the desperate catch-up work of early autumn and more like preparation — reclaiming the garden section by section before the dry season hardens the soil and makes everything more difficult.

Nothing too grand or ambitious. Just sensible dry-season gardening.

Garden Highlights

May brought some lovely little garden rewards.

The potted Plectranthus saccatus have been putting on a fabulous display out in the courtyard. They have that generous way of filling a pot and softening a space, and at the moment they are doing it beautifully.

The potted Impatiens walleriana have also been a quiet triumph. After looking thoroughly unimpressed with life during the wet season, they have recovered. All of them. 

It is a small thing, perhaps, but after watching them struggle through the heavy rain and humidity, seeing them freshen up again feels like a proper little garden victory.

Near the car shed, the Iris domestica, commonly known as the Blackberry Lily or Leopard Lily, was showing off its last bloom. Just one — but it caught my eye. These last flowers of a season always feel worth noticing. They are like a final word before the plant slips back into the background.

Under the pergola, the pink Begonia semperflorens has been producing the tiniest blooms. They are not showy in a loud way, but they are beautiful. Little details like that are easy to miss if I am rushing, but May encourages slower looking.

And in the shade house, the beautiful Davallia fejeensis, the Rabbit’s Foot Fern, is showing exactly why it is such a great plant for that protected space. Its soft, divided fronds and those wonderfully strange furry rhizomes seem perfectly at home there.

Seasonal Markers

Autumn colours are not a usual occurrence here in the dry tropics, certainly not in the way they are in cooler climates. But there are still some trees that mark the seasonal change in quieter ways. 

One of these is Lagerstroemia speciosa. It is winter deciduous, and as the dry season transition begins, the older leaves turn red or rusty-coloured before falling during our mid to late autumn.

Another marker at this time of year is the native Eucalyptus platyphylla, commonly known as the Poplar Gum. It is notably dry-season deciduous, and as the season shifts, the outer layer of bark begins to fall away, revealing the smooth white trunk beneath. Looking around my garden and the surrounding bush land, I noticed the Poplar Gums are all at different stages of this process. Some have already shed most of their rough outer bark, while others are still in the middle of letting go.

As autumn ends, one of my favourite sights in the garden is the burst of colour from my Calliandra haematocephala, or red Powderpuff, and Calliandra surinamensis, or pink Powderpuff. The flower buds look like little raspberries before they bloom — first green, then red. Once they open, the individual flowers are small, but they cluster together to form those wonderful soft, spherical powderpuff blooms. It is a delightful sight, and another little signal that the season is shifting.

Smoke on the Horizon

May also brought one of the unmistakable signs that the dry season has begun.

Planned burning has started near where we live, in the Mt Elliott section of Bowling Green Bay National Park. Yesterday, as we were driving into our rural suburb, we could see plumes of smoke rising in the distance. This morning, there was still a faint hint of smoke hanging around the foothills.

It is another seasonal marker.

In the dry tropics, the approach of winter is not only about cooler mornings, crisp evenings, and pleasant gardening weather. It is also about drier grasses, clearer skies, smoke on the horizon, and the start of bushfire season.

The garden might be my daily focus, but it sits within a much larger landscape. The foothills, the bush paddock, the national park, the grasses drying out beyond the garden fence — they are all part of the same seasonal story.

May makes that very clear.

What Flowered During May?

The Justicia brandegeeana, or Shrimp Plant, has been covered in blooms. It is one of those plants that always seems to bring cheer to a garden corner, with its curious, layered flowers and easy-going character.

The last of the Mussaenda philippica x flava ‘Calcutta Sunset’ flower sprays are still hanging on too. They are past their peak now, but still beautiful in that lingering, end-of-season way. I always admire plants that hold onto their colour just a little longer than expected.

The Gerberas have been blooming once more, which feels like another small reward. Their flowers have such simple brightness to them — bold, cheerful, and impossible to ignore.

The rather leggy Salvia madrensis, or Golden Fountain Salvia, continues to show off its flower spikes. It may not be the neatest plant in the garden, but when those yellow flowers appear, all is forgiven. Some plants earn their space by being tidy. Others earn it by having a moment.

Closing Reflection

May in a Townsville dry tropics garden is a quieter kind of beauty.

It is found in the big blue sky, the clearer air, the crisp evening coolness, and the pleasure of wandering without hurry. It is found in small jobs, sensible decisions, fresh foliage, late flowers, and the gentle satisfaction of seeing a few tired plants spring back to life.

The garden is no longer simply recovering from the wet. It is settling into the drier part of the year with plants slowing, shedding, and conserving themselves.

Wintertime is drawing close, and we are beginning to feel its first cool touch.

Until next time,
🌸 Happy gardening from the dry tropics!

April In My Townsville Garden ... My Dry Tropics Garden Journal ... Mid-Autumn, April 2026

Garden Journal Entry  - April

Weather Report for the month:

Seasons:  Mid-Autumn / Start of the Dry Season 
Maximum Temps:  26°C - 32°C            
Minimum Temps:  16°C - 24°C
Humidity Levels:  60 - 70%   
Hours of daylight:  12 hrs 30 mins
Rainfall:  15 mm (around half an inch) 

Yes, it's been a while since my last post dear gardeners and my excuse - our 2025–2026 summer conditions and wet season lingered for quite some time and the combination was not much fun for either a dry tropics gardener or the garden! 

The challenges experienced from December through to March continued - heat, relentless humidity, scorching sun that rose early and set late, annoying and abundant insects, sodden ground, rampant weed growth, overgrown beds.  Some plants loved it, but many others struggled with the sheer persistence of the heat and the endless heavy rain.  

My gardening efforts dwindled to almost nothing. By the end of March, everything felt tired, overgrown, or in need of attention. The arrival of April felt so good. 

💛 Mid-autumn in the coastal dry tropics

April, our mid-autumn month, is always the time when the garden catches its breath. When the wet season is no longer in command, there is a subtle easing in the weather conditions that feels so welcome. The horrid, hot, humid days end, as do the endless heavy downpours of rain. The lovely milder days and cooler nights set in, and constant breezes move through the garden drying things out considerably. It becomes safer and easier to move around the garden once more, and after months of slippery paths, soggy ground and oppressive humidity, that felt like a real pleasure.

🌿 The feel of April

April is one of the gentler gardening months in Townsville and the start of my favourite time of year. It is not that the garden suddenly changes overnight, but the whole place begins to feel different. The air is lighter, the mornings are cooler and the light seems clearer. After the greyness and saturation of the wet season, those big, bright, clear blue skies are a welcome sight.

We also begin to see some stunning sunrises at this time of year, and they always seem to mark the turning of the season for me. There is still warmth in the days, of course, but the edge has gone out of things. The garden is still full and green after the wet, but it no longer feels burdened by it.

🧤 Catching up on garden jobs after the wet

I was very busy over the last couple of weeks of April, making the most of the cooler mornings and the much kinder conditions. There was lots of weeding and cutting back, which is hardly surprising after such a long wet season. Everything had grown with great enthusiasm, including all the things I did not want.

I also had to re-pot and fertilise a number of the potted plants and hanging baskets, and top up the mulch out in the rock garden beds. These are not especially exciting jobs, perhaps, but they are the sort of essential post-wet season tasks that make such a difference. 

With the cooler morning temperatures, it was actually quite lovely to get back out in the garden and start ticking off these tasks. That is one of the pleasures of April in the dry tropics. The work feels possible again.

Post-wet season fun

The weeds that exploded along the fence line on our property — the one that divides our house yard from our bush paddock — were at the top of the task list and became the target of a planned attack.

During hubby's slash and burn attack.

Hubby deployed the “slash and burn” principle to create a break between the weed-infested mess in the rest of the bush paddock and our side yard. I did not think to take before and after shots, but I can attest to the fact that the weed growth along that fence line was shoulder-high. It was one of those jobs that absolutely had to be done, and has made a huge difference.

There is still plenty more to do, of course, but at least that section no longer looks as though it is about to swallow the yard whole.

🦘 The weed-eaters

There were quite a number of critters out and about, enjoying the post-wet season abundance.

A flock of Sulphur-crested Cockatoos were also doing its bit. They spent a number of days enthusiastically feasting on the seeds of the weedy growth along another fence line. There was (and still is) a massive patch of weeds growing on the other side of our fence — not on our property unfortunately, so we couldn't attack that as well.

The Agile Wallabies however helped us out a little.  They spent every morning and evening feasting on the multitude of weeds that sprang up in our front and side yards during the wet season.

🌼 Autumn wanderings

Wanderings are wonderful at this time of the year. With lovely blooms here and there, it is simply a fabulous time to be out in the garden, enjoying the colour and foliage rather than just trying to cope with the conditions.

Out in the bush land, the native Acacias were blooming throughout April. 

Both Acacia mangium, with its creamy lemon flowers, 

and Acacia auriculiformis, with its golden yellow flowers, brightened the landscape. 

They are both a lovely reminder that autumn in the dry tropics has its own beauty.

The Kookaburras kept an eye on my progress in cleaning up the place, quietly supervising proceedings from above. 

I also noticed lots of lovely moths, dragonflies and butterflies fluttering around. After the long wet, it was nice to see this lighter, livelier side of the garden returning.

💛 What flowered during April?

Top left:  Jasmine officinale (Poet's Jasmine)
Top right:  Adenium obesum (Desert Rose)
Middle left:  Combretum constrictum (Thailand Powderpuff)  
Bottom left:  Ixora
Bottom right:  Coleus flowers

Top left:  Streptocarpus caulescens (Nodding Violet)
Top middle:  Ixora
Top right:  Pennisetum rubrum (Purple Fountain Grass)
Bottom left:  Pseudomussaenda flava (Dwarf Yellow Mussaenda)
Bottom right:  Begonia semperflorens (Wax Begonia)

🌱 What April asks of the garden

April asks for recovery rather than urgency. After a long wet season, it is the month for restoring order, reclaiming space, and helping the garden settle into a steadier rhythm. There is weeding to be done, plants to cut back, pots to refresh, mulch to top up, and all the small maintenance jobs that are so easy to put off during the worst of summer.

It is also the time of year when I am able to spend much longer out in the garden again. The cooler mornings, milder days and constant breezes make such a difference. After months of working around heat, humidity and rain, April brings back that sense of ease. Jobs that felt rushed or unpleasant in summer can now be done slowly and properly, with time to stop, notice things, and enjoy being outside as well.

April also reveals what has come through the wet season well and what has not. Some plants respond to the change in season by freshening up almost immediately, while others show just how much the heat, humidity and endless rain have taken out of them. The garden begins to tell you what needs pruning, what needs feeding, what needs replanting, and what simply needs time.

Most of all, April asks for a gentler kind of work. The garden no longer needs to be battled with — it needs to be read, tidied, and guided into the next season. That is one of the things I love most about this time of year. There is something very restorative about April in the dry tropics. The work is still there, but it comes with room to notice, to wander, and to enjoy the garden again.

Until next time,
🌸 Happy gardening from the dry tropics!