Thrivers and Survivors

Thrivers and Survivors

Plant natives was the mandate from our local shire council.  I may have snuck in the odd day-lily and olive tree into the mix, but at least outside the fence I’ve tried to stick with native Australian species.  I have fun learning what’s what, and I’ve come to relish the drought-tolerant natives.  

Gardening has been a trial-and-error exercise for me in Australia, even though Eden at Byron, the local nursery has clear signs and helpful staff.  When I ask for help, we always start a conversation with “What kind of soil do you have?”  And there’s the rub, right from the get-go.  

The soil at our place includes sand with construction debris in some places and hard clay in others – none of which seem conducive to nurturing plants.  And then there are the tropical downpours alternating with heat and drought.  It’s a mixed bag, any way you look at it. 

Of course, I use moisture beads to help keep in some of the moisture.  However used with too free a hand, the moisture beads expand and expand and finally ooze out of pots in an alarming fashion that always makes me think of the movie “Ghostbusters.”  And here’s the final hint from Eden:  mulch, mulch, mulch – at least twice a year with sugar cane mulch or tea tree mulch – both sold in bales, they’re useful bi-products of other industries.

The best survivor so far, in fact, the thriver, is the grevellia.  Its flower is a hat-seller of jester’s hats, one piled up on the other, stacked 8 to 10 high.  The bleeding-heart shaped center floweret narrows to a curved beak of concentrated color – coral, orange, yellow, pink, and culminates in a curled end of yellow as if it was a jester’s bell. 

As the grevellias start to bloom, they show cream and sage, and then slowly, the flowerets develop and deepen and mature, expanding in form, transforming in color, in richness, and in attraction to a variety of nectar seekers.  The blooms droop with the birds’ weight as they perform the partnership necessary in the procreative process.  As I walk by, I only pick up a slight honey-scented musk from the grevellia, but clearly the curved-billed, long-tongued nectar-eaters can smell the developing richness as soon as the flowerets open.

The grevellia can grow almost 15 feet tall relatively quickly, and has an open, even gangly habit.  I trim mine a bit so we can walk the path to the front door. They can’t be planted too close to the house since any stems can provide a pathway for voracious white ants and termites. Native plants need their space to be rangy, too.

I’ve planted more now, with different colored blooms, and the slender stalks of new plants have matured to the characteristic grey-brown rough bark and delicate, lacy sage-colored leaves.  They’ll allow us some privacy on the front patio and bring a fascinating variety of birds in to sip.  

Each season, I marvel at the blossoms, so delicate and complex, at the contrast of the delicate blossoms and the tough bark and rangy habit, and at the persistence of the grevellia that thrives in such poor sandy soil. To me, the many forms of grevellia are perfect metaphors for those who not only survive, but thrive, in the magnificent land down under.

For more information:

Gardening with Australian natives:  

http://www.lonker.net/gardening_australian_1.htm

Eden at Byron, 140 Bangalow Road, Byron Bay, NSW 2481.  02-6685-6874, www.edenatbyron.com.au (website under construction at publication)