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

Garden Journal Entry - Week  catch-up

Weather Report for April:

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 lasted for quite some time. The combination was not much fun for either a dry tropics gardener or the garden! 

It brought all the usual challenges for the gardener - heat, relentless humidity, scorching sun that rose early and set late, annoying and abundant insects, sodden ground, rampant weed growth, overgrown beds.  It was not much fun for the garden either.  Some plants loved it, but others struggled with the sheer persistence of the heat and the endless heavy rain that seemed to go on and on.  

My gardening efforts dwindled to almost nothing. By the end of the summer and wet season, 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. The wet season is no longer in command. There is a subtle easing in the weather conditions that feels so welcome after the long wet. 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, tit 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!

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!