Rain, Humidity & Heavenly Perfume ... My Dry Tropics Garden Journal ... End of Summer ... Week 9, 2026

Garden Journal Entry - Week 9 catch-up

(a two-month wet season recap.}

Weather Report for both January & February:

Seasons:  End of Summer / Mid Wet Season 
Maximum Temps:  25°C - 36°C            
Minimum Temps:  20°C - 27°C
Humidity Levels:  70 - 90%   
Hours of daylight:  12 hrs 30 mins
Rainfall: 1011 mm (around 40 ins) - over 40 days across two months

The new gardening year started with a drenching — here in the foothills of our rural suburb, over 200 mm (around 8 inches) of rain fell in just 24 hours on the very first day of 2026. Almost instantly, little streams and tiny waterfalls popped up all around our property as the already sodden ground struggled to absorb the downpour. 

On our sloping block, that meant a surprising amount of run-off: water finding every low point, carving temporary channels, and reminding me (again) that wet season gardening isn’t just about the plants — it’s about the land itself and how it moves water.  Work continued throughout the start of the year on the creation of diversion banks and channels along our fence line to allow the wet season run-off to flow onto the bush paddock without causing erosion in our front yard.

Wet Season 2026

The runoff channels / diversion bank work

Compared to ...

Wet Season 2024

The front yard being carved up by the wet season deluge

The months of January and February in my coastal dry tropics garden are always a bit of a paradox: this is the time of year when everything looks like it should be thriving, given the amount of rain … and yet it’s also when you discover which plants only ever loved you in the mild months.

Summer 2026 brought the full wet-season energy to Townsville - hot, humid, and oppressive conditions with excruciatingly high daytime temps., very warm nights, exceedingly steamy mornings, short and intense afternoon thunderstorms, sudden downpours that feel like someone tipped a bucket over the sky, and that familiar rhythm of “it’s fine… it’s fine… oh wow, it’s really not fine.”

The sound of rain on the corrugated tin roof after a long dry season is one of my favourite sounds
... but the initial love does fade during a lengthy wet season!

The weather story (aka: why the pots sulked)

Looking at the Townsville Aero Weather Station daily observations, January 2026 delivered a hefty 657.2 mm (26 ins.) of rain in total, with a biggest daily fall recorded at 223.0 mm (9 ins.). That’s the sort of month where you stop “watering” and start “triaging.”

February stayed firmly in wet-season mode too, with 353.8 mm (14 ins.) recorded for the month. Still humid, still lush, still plenty of moisture around - just with a little more breathing space between the soaking events.

In the garden at my place, that translated to:

• potting mix staying wet for days (even the “free draining” stuff)

• leaves and mulch that never quite dried out, especially in crowded corners

• fungal spots and stem rot waiting for one overcast week to make their move

• and that tricky combo of heat + humidity where plants can look fine… right up until they don’t!

One of the potted plants moved to the "Wet Season Triage Corner"
- a soggy pot, a rotting plant, and lots of lovely mould 

The reality check: garden time was… patchy

One of the most defining things about January and February this year (and most years) wasn’t just what the wet season did to the plants - it was what it did to my ability to be out there with them.

Time in the garden was limited by the lengthy (and sometimes very heavy) periods of rain, the muddy, slippery sections underfoot, and the kind of high humidity that turns a quick potter into an instant sweat-soaked expedition. On many days it wasn’t so much choosing when to garden, as waiting for a small weather window to appear.

Whenever it was possible to get out into the garden - usually early mornings or late afternoons - I kept the jobs simple and sensible. This was not the season for big projects or major reshuffles. Most visits came down to two things:

• Weeding, because wet season weeds do not take days off, and

• Monitoring plant health, especially anything in pots or anything showing early signs of stress - yellowing, spotting, limp growth, or stems that felt a little too soft for comfort.

And honestly? That kind of slow, watchful gardening suits this season. In a wet tropical summer, the garden is doing a lot without you - growing, flowering, recovering, sometimes struggling - and your job is mostly to notice and respond when and where you can.

The casualties: Impatiens and Coleus (my annual wet-season lesson)

This year’s wet-season losses were mostly in pots - Impatiens and Coleus, in particular. They’re such generous colour-givers… but in prolonged humidity and repeated rain, potted plants can go downhill fast. Wet feet, softened stems, and that moment where you realise the plant hasn’t “wilted”… it’s collapsed.

My big takeaways (yet again!): in a Townsville summer, pots need airflow, height, and escape routes.  I always forget how quickly pots can turn in this weather ... I should know better.

• Lift pots so they can drain freely (feet, bricks, anything)

• Thin out crowded plantings so leaves actually dry

• Accept that some soft-stemmed beauties are basically wet-season annuals (even when the label says “perennial”)

Next wet season I'm going to pretend I'm organised and actually do the airflow pruning earlier!!!!! 😉

The real headline of Jan–Feb:  Perfume ... everywhere!

While these last two wet season months have been a stress test, as usual, they have also given me the loveliest reward: fragrance, drifting through the garden in waves - sometimes creamy, sometimes sharp-green, sometimes sweet and nostalgic.  Because garden visits were brief and weather-dependent, the perfume wafting throughout the garden felt even more vivid - like the garden's way of greeting me the moment I stepped outside.

Gardenia ‘Soleil d’Or’

Gardenia mutabilis 'Soleil d'or" in full bloom
- the highly scented blooms open white, turn yellow, and then finally gold as the flowers mature

This was the star - that rich, buttery gardenia scent that feels almost textured. Some days it floated on the air all around the driveway and pathway entrances to our house; other days it was concentrated and heady, like the whole garden was wearing perfume. In the wet-season humidity, fragrance seems to hang around longer, especially in the evening.

Jasmine

Jasmine grandiflorum, commonly known as the Poet's Jasmine
- this vine has lots of very fragrant large single flowers

Jasmine in summer is like a soundtrack you don’t realise you’ve been missing until it starts again. It’s lighter than gardenia but it carries - and when the air is still after rain, it can travel from out in the courtyard (where it's planted) through to all the rooms at the back of the house.

Murraya paniculata 

Murraya paniculata (commonly known as Mock Orange or Orange Jessamine
- this tall-growing shrub is covered in beautifully scented white flowers

Murraya has its own kind of magic - a clean, sweet, citrusy-floral scent that reads as “freshly washed air” to me. When it’s flowering well, it’s the plant that makes you pause without thinking: you just stop because something smells good.  They grow all around the house and throughout the garden, creating a heavenly perfume wherever you walk.

What I love about this season (even with the soggy setbacks)

There’s something very dry-tropics about finding joy in the between moments: that short window after a storm when everything is dripping, birds and butterflies are busy again, and the garden smells like leaves, wet mulch, and flowers all at once.

Yes, I lost a few potted plants. But the trade-off was a garden that, for weeks on end, was scented by Gardenia, Jasmine and Murraya - not just occasionally, but daily. A true wet-season gift.

Notes to self for next summer

• Keep the “softies” (Impatiens/Coleus) in higher, breezier spots 

• Treat them as seasonal and take cuttings in the cooler months so more plants are established, ready to replace the lost mature ones

• Refresh potting mix before the worst humidity hits

• Prune for airflow earlier (before the garden turns into a jungle)

• Always plant something for fragrance, because it changes how you feel in the garden

End of Summer Colour & Interest

Around the courtyard
- Ferns, Caladiums,  Eucharis grandiflora (Amazon Lily) and Jasmine

Under the pergola in the courtyard garden
- Allamanda, Ferns, Coleus, Impatiens, Begonia

In the shade house garden
- Impatiens, Ferns, Coleus, Caladium, Alocasia, Evolvulus 

In the outdoor garden beds
- Hymenocallis, Gloriosa, Croton, Turnera, Lagerstroemia, Mussaenda, Ixora 

Closing Thoughts

As February rolled toward its end, it felt like summer was loosening its grip - not in any dramatic way, but in small shifts: a touch more breathing space between the downpours, a slightly softer edge to the afternoons and evenings, and a garden that has proven to be both resilient and ruthless.

We're heading into early autumn with fewer pots than I started the summer with, a sharper eye on plant health, and a deep appreciation for the true heroes of these past months - the gardenia, jasmine and murraya - whose perfume turned even the muddiest, most humid wet-season into something memorable.

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

Heat, Hesitation, Then The Wet Season Begins ... My Dry Tropics Garden Journal ... Start of Summer, Week 52, December 2025

Garden Journal Entry - Week 52

Weather Report for December:

Seasons:  Beginning of Summer / Beginning of Wet Season 
Maximum Temps:  31°C - 37°C            
Minimum Temps:  21°C - 26°C
Humidity Levels:  60 - 90%   
Hours of daylight:  12 hrs 15 mins
Rainfall: 335 mm (13 ins) - updated to the end of the month

By the time December rolls around, the garden feels like it’s holding its breath… and then exhaling in warm, wet gusts. This is the dry tropics doing its classic seasonal pivot: the dry season hangover still lingers in the soil, but the sky starts practising for the coming wet season - more humidity, bigger clouds, sharper storms, and that unmistakable smell of rain hitting hot ground.

The Summer Weather Shift 

December, our first month of summer and the beginning of our wet season, brought full summer weather and the unmistakable "build-up" feeling.  Overnight temperatures ranged from 21-26°C, with daytime highs sitting between 31-36°C. 

Days ran hot, and the humidity changed the whole experience of being outside. The garden didn’t just feel warm; it felt steamed. By mid-morning you’re already gardening in a slow simmer, and anything physical becomes a negotiation: two minutes weeding, five minutes recovering in the shade.

The sky also got dramatic. Mornings could look deceptively bright and calm, and then by afternoon the light turned silvery, the horizon stacked up with cloud, and you heard distant rumbles that may or may not actually arrive. December was full of those weather “almosts” - big cloud builds that collapsed into nothing… until the day they didn’t, and we got a proper downpour that made the whole garden looked like it had been revived overnight.

First Rains: The Garden’s “before and after” Moment

Rain arrived in bursts this month rather than a steady wet-season pattern.

• Dec 1: a strong opening downpour of 33 mm

• Dec 2–16: no rain — a long dry pause after a promising start

• Dec 17–18: a modest return, 7 mm over two days

• Dec 24–39: the real shift — 142 mm 

• Dec 30 & 31:  downpour of  152 mm

While the early wet season rain wasn't consistent, the late December run finally felt like the wet season stepping in properly and the garden responded quickly once the deeper moisture returned -

• Soils softened after months of feeling like concrete.

• Plants that have been sitting in survival mode suddenly pushed fresh green growth.

• Mulch that looked tired started doing its job again - holding moisture, cooling roots, feeding the soil life.

Everything seemed to relax into growth again and the first proper soaking also revealed the garden’s little truths: where the water runs, where it pools, which beds drain beautifully, and which ones silently hold grudges until they’re waterlogged.

December Growth: Soft new leaves, fast decisions

Once our wet season arrives, the garden responds with that tropical speed that’s equal parts thrilling and slightly alarming. Shoots stretch, vines take opportunities, and anything you’ve been putting off (staking, pruning, re-potting) becomes more urgent because the plants are suddenly making plans.

The “summer green” starts to look different:

• New leaves are often lighter, shinier, and softer - more vulnerable to sun scorch and hungry insects.  In the early weeks of this month, time was spent re-arranging some of the potted plants out in the courtyard, like the Impatiens walleriana, to offer them a break from the direct sunlight.

• Some plants, like the Combretum constrictum, flower with a sense of timing, like they’ve been waiting all year for the heat, humidity and rain cue.  

• Other plants just explode into foliage.

What flowered this month?

Early on in the month:

Cassia fistula (commonly known as the Golden Shower Tree).

Covered in pendulous clusters of golden yellow flowers, it is a breathtaking sight.  As the flowers emerge, the tree sheds some of its foliage, allowing the vibrant blooms to take centre stage.

Lagerstroemia speciosa (commonly known as the Queen's Crepe Myrtle).

Looking spectacular in flower with large crinkled purple blooms that look like delicate crepe paper.

Throughout the month:

Thunbergia erecta, Ixoras, Allamanda, Begonia, Turnera ulmifolia, Gerberas and Mussaenda philippica x flava 'Calcutta Sunset'.

More recently, with the arrival of consistent rainfall:

Murraya paniculata (commonly known as Mock Orange or Orange Jasmine).

All the Murraya shrubs have burst into bloom, and the perfume has been extraordinary — the kind that fills the air rather than simply drifting through it. In the humid summer conditions the scent hangs beautifully, especially in the mornings and evenings.

Gardenia ‘Soleil d’Or’.

Over the last couple of days it has exploded into bloom and is now covered in richly perfumed flowers. The colour shift is especially lovely to watch up close: blooms opening white, then gradually deepening through cream to warm orange as they age — like a little seasonal sunset happening across the plant.

Summertime Wildlife Regulars Returned

• December brings the cicada chorus back. Even before the wet season truly settles in, you’ll hear it, louder by day but still discernible at night.

• More insects, like the Rhinocerus and the Christmas Beetle, appear at night, drawn to lights and the thickening air.

• It’s also the month when you start keeping an eye out for the less charming cast members - sap-suckers like mealy bugs, leaf-chewers like grasshoppers, and anything that thrives in warm, damp conditions.

What The Garden Asks Of You In December

December is not the month for heroic marathon gardening. It rewards a different approach: short sessions, strategic timing, and letting the season do some of the heavy lifting.

A few classic December rhythms:

• Garden early (or late) and accept that midday is for observation, not effort.

• Weed after rain while the soil is soft - this is when you can actually win.

• Top up mulch before the real wet season hits so the soil is protected and splash is reduced.

• Check drainage and pots after storms - water can pool fast, and roots can sulk.

• Prune lightly, aiming for airflow (humidity plus still air is when fungal issues start flirting with your plants).

The Feeling Of December: Hope with thunder in the distance

December in a dry tropics garden is a month of anticipation. It’s the beginning of the season where the landscape stops enduring and starts responding. Even if the rain is patchy, the promise of it changes everything - clouds build, breezes shift, plants lean into growth, and you find yourself looking up at the sky more often.

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

November Round-Up ... My Dry Tropics Garden Journal ... End Of Spring, Week 48, November 2025

Garden Journal Entry - Week 48

Weather Report for November:

Seasons:  End of Spring / Dry Season 
Maximum Temps:  30°C - 37°C            
Minimum Temps:  19°C - 27°C
Humidity Levels:  50 - 80%   
Hours of daylight:  12 hrs 49 mins - 13 hrs 12 mins
Rainfall:  60 mm (ins)

Conditions

While November was officially our last month of spring, the garden and the weather had clearly decided that summer was already here. Most days hovered around 33–34°C, with nights staying warm at around 24–26°C. The skies were mostly clear and bright blue, but in north Queensland the colour is an intense, vibrant azure. These skies were punctuated by soft, white cumulus clouds under a strong tropical sun.

Humidity, though, was the real game-changer. By 9.00 am the thermometer might read 30°C, but with the humidity sitting around 67%, it felt more like 35–37°C. By midday, when the temperature climbed to 33°C, the humidity could push the “feels like” temperature up to a sweltering 39–40°C. It’s the kind of weather that makes both gardener and garden wilt.

The dry season lingered into the first week of November. We’d had no rain in August or September, and only 5 mm in October, so the soil had taken on that familiar concrete-like, parched crust. Then the pattern shifted slightly and we occasionally slipped into proper “build-up” conditions.

There were days when the overcast skies lifted my hopes that lots of rain was on its way. Thunderstorms began to roll through intermittently, mostly overnight or in the early mornings, bringing very light showers. These were just enough to give the potted plants a refreshing rinse, but not enough to soak into the hard, thirsty ground.

Then, during the second week and again in the last week, we finally had a couple of daytime thunderstorms with decent downpours. At last, there was some genuine penetration through that tough top layer of soil. You could almost hear the garden exhale.

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Gardening Jobs

With the heat and humidity ramping up so early in the day, gardening jobs were few and far between. After about 9.30 am it was simply too hot, too humid, and too uncomfortable to do much outside.

Regular deep watering became the main priority. At this stage of the dry season, the garden would not survive without it. I spent a fair bit of time each week setting up and shifting sprinklers around the outdoor garden beds, trying to give each corner a decent drink.

Some of the well-established plants—Ixoras, one of the Gardenias, the Murrayas and the Crotons—put on brief flushes of flowers, as if to remind me they were still hanging in there. But, overall, the outdoor beds were fairly quiet bloom-wise.

Most of the colour and life was concentrated in the shade house and courtyard garden, where the potted plants were watered almost every day. Those sheltered spaces became my little refuges: green, damp, and full of small surprises.

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Mother Nature’s Early Christmas Decorations

Despite the heat and the slog of watering, Mother Nature gifted the garden some early Christmas decorations.

One of my greatest joys this past month was coming home and walking past—sometimes right under—the exquisite blooms of Hibiscus schizopetalus, commonly known as the Japanese Lantern Hibiscus or Coral Hibiscus. This shrub is one of the original hibiscus forms and it has a character all its own.

It’s a tall, arching evergreen shrub with long, slender stalks and a beautiful, drooping habit. The flowers are delicate, pendulous lanterns, finely cut and lacy, reddish with coral-pink streaks. They hang and sway in the slightest breeze, like little festive ornaments. In a month dominated by heat, those intricate blooms felt like a quiet celebration.

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Colour in the Garden

My garden walks were brief—usually just quick wanderings in the early mornings before retreating back into the air conditioning—but even in those short strolls, there was plenty to notice:

• Signs of the coming summer: Flowering Delonix regia (Poinciana) trees and Cassia fistula (Golden Shower) trees were clear heralds that our true summer season is just around the corner.



• Caladiums waking up: Caladiums planted in the ground have popped up from their hibernation, adding splashes of colour and interesting foliage to shaded corners.



• Fireball Lilies in bloom: My Scadoxus multiflorus (Fireball Lilies) have also emerged from dormancy and are blooming, their bold, spherical flower heads adding a dramatic note to the garden.



• Gardenia in her glory: One of my Gardenia shrubs has been covered in blooms, and the perfume has been magnificent—soft, sweet clouds of scent drifting through the warm air.



• Perfume from the honeysuckle: Flowers have appeared on the Lonicera japonica (Japanese Honeysuckle), adding yet another layer of perfume and making early morning walks especially fragrant.



• Desert Roses with promise: A number of my Adenium obesum (Desert Roses) are carrying seed pods, hanging from their branches like little green ornaments full of potential.



• Queen’s Crepe Myrtle waking up: One of the Lagerstroemia speciosa (Queen’s Crepe Myrtle) has flower sprays forming, promising more colour as we move deeper into the hot months.

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Closing Thoughts

November was a month of contrasts: parched soil and heavy skies, oppressive humidity and delicate blossoms, discomfort in the heat and small, fragrant rewards in the early mornings.

Even when the weather makes serious gardening difficult, there is still so much to notice and appreciate. A lantern-like hibiscus bloom, a fireball lily emerging from nowhere, or the familiar scent of gardenia on a hot breeze—these are the small, steady joys that make keeping a garden worthwhile, even in the toughest of seasons.

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