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
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| 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:
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| Parched Duranta responding to deep watering with new growth. |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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
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| Eucalyptus platyphylla, commonly known as the White Gum or Poplar Gum, become far more noticeable during the dry season |
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.
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.
