common ground and an ever evolving garden

I have been deeply touched and encouraged by the number of people who have taken the time to comment, message, share, and like my last post. You have shared with me a snippet of your own lives, struggles, and journeys, and that means a lot. The response has taken me by surprise. It made me wonder why what I wrote touched something in you that compelled you to reach out. I suspect together, we found a kind of common ground in our struggles, hopes, and dreams. We are each trying to find our own unique path to create a life that resonates in our souls. Perhaps we discovered a kind of solidarity. And that for me, is something worth continuing to write for. So let's keep meeting here, shall we? 

I didn't grow up with much of a garden. I remember as a very small child there was a veggie patch at one house we lived at, but generally, we had a lawn, a few hardy shrubs, and a few roses—pleasant and low-maintenance. 

As an adult, I have found myself drawn to pretty gardens, abundant with blooms, trickling water and shade, which is especially appealing in our hot Australian summers. But gardening in the subtropics has been a steep learning curve for me, and it is one I have far from mastered. My garden has a tendency to escape me, before requiring a big clear out. Then, I'll track along nicely for a while before the cycle repeats itself. I suspect this is because I am drawn to cottage gardens, with a large number of perennials and annuals, which are often not low maintenance. I have discovered many of the perennials I am drawn to act more like annuals here; I am unsure why. Time-wise, I need a garden that can handle a bit of neglect without it turning its toes up on me. I also need the plantings to be dense enough that they inhibit some of the crazy weed growth we have over the summer. 

The two garden beds my MIL helped to plan and plant out. 

The end of the semester led to one of those times, and my garden had become an overgrown, wild, weedy, ugly mess. The goats took advantage of my absence by learning to break in and demolish anything that took their fancy. No agapanthus flowers for me this year! Apparently, they are particularly tasty to goats. 

It was disheartening. 

Thankfully, Grant got in there and did the bulk of the heavy clearing out to encourage me to feel inspired again. But knowing I have work and study to juggle for the foreseeable future, I need to adapt the way I garden. My in-laws came down recently, and my MIL is an avid gardener who understands the tension of maintaining a large garden with time constraints. With her help, we chose hardy, pretty flowering shrubs, trying to use height to create layers and different-coloured blooms to get the cottage look I love. She was a huge help in laying them out, and together, we tackled two big beds, which will look lovely once established. There are purple bundaleas against the yurt, pink geraniums, roses, gardenias, native bush basil, some strappy flowering things and a few other bits and bobs. It's all had a good mulch, the paths raked and now I feel inspired to continue to freshen up the other beds. 

There is still a veggie garden, though there is not much in it at the moment. I will replant that once the harshest part of summer is past. We are past the summer solstice, so it won't be long. It is not uncommon in various parts of Australia that people will give veggie gardening a rest in the middle of summer when the insect/fungal load is at its highest. Our sun can get extremely harsh, and it can be hard to get out there and spend the time it takes to keep a productive veggie garden going. Due to the heat, it can require a lot of water, and if it's rainy, we then struggle with mildew and fungal issues. Our creeks here have dropped to a trickle, though we still have one sound water hole. 

A shady little garden Elsie likes to play in. There is her cubby, a big tub for water play,  a sand pit, and a fairy garden here. Her clever grandmother runs a pottery classes in SA, and whipped her up some pottery fairy houses. 

For me, gardening is evolving into more of a contemplative practice to help maintain good mental and spiritual health rather than trying to provide an abundance of food.  I have a level of guilt over this, as a "good homesteader" would have a wonderfully productive garden. But the truth is, I feel a much deeper sense of joy from seeing the colourful blooms, with bees and butterflies hovering amongst them, watching tiny wrens darting in and out, and the old kookaburra sitting on the fence in the evening.  This, along with the sound of the trickling fountain and the chorus of frogs, fills my heart with a peace like no other. It is in the garden I feel deeply connected to God, and where God's peace fills my heart and sustains me. And perhaps seeking such peace in challenging global and economic times is not such a bad thing. Perhaps those of us who have the privilege of doing so should seek peace wherever we can, so we can help others discover peace in their lives through whatever means resonates with them. For, we are all created differently, and it is a tremendous blessing whenever we can find alignment with what we are doing to who we are in our souls. 

Much love and blessings, 

Emma xx