Take a drive around some of the older parts of Toowoomba at the moment and it won’t take long to have your breath stolen by a crepe myrtle tree in full, spectacular flower. Alongside jacarandas and liquidambars, crepe myrtles are one of the Garden City’s most popular trees, and for good reason. Not only do the trees extend the spring flower season into mid-summer, they absolutely adore Toowoomba’s weather and soil.

Historically the most commonly grown species was the common crepe myrtle, Lagerstroemia indica. Despite the suggestion of a subcontinental heritage in the botanical name, this species actually hails from China and Korea and was introduced to the southern states of America in the late 1700′s. Lagerstroemia indica is a fine plant, but it has two major faults: a vulnerability to the fungal disease powdery mildew and a tendency to send up suckers, especially if the roots are disturbed.

To overcome these problems, plant breeders have selectively crossed Lagerstroemia indica with the Japanese crepe myrtle, Lagerstroemia fauriei. These hybrids are much improved plants, being more cold tolerant, mildew resistant and sucker free than the old L. indica. The most readily available are sold under the “Indian Summer” banner. They bear the names of native American tribes and are available in a range of sizes from medium sized trees, such as ‘Natchez’ and ‘Tuscarora’, to distinctly shrub-like plants such as ‘Tonto’. Even smaller are some of the “Symphony of Colour by Chopin” range of crepe myrtles. The prostrate variety ‘New Orleans’ will grow to just half a metre tall by about a metre and a half wide – prefect for planting as part of a mixed shrub border.

The obvious reason for growing crepe myrtles is their flowers. Formed on large panicles in saturated shades of crimson, mauve, pink and white, the blooms are a highlight of summer and welcome in the New Year like a natural fireworks display. But you’d be wrong to dismiss the crepe myrtle as a one trick pony. In my view they are among the best four-season plants being grown on the Downs.

During autumn, the foliage turns incredibly radiant shades of orange and red, and in winter, the mottled, exfoliating bark provides welcome interest. The display is especially attractive on tall, multi-trunked specimens that have had the lower branches pruned off during the first few years after planting. Even in spring crepe myrtles are pretty – new foliage on the branch tips starts crimson, and gradually turns green. There really is something interesting happening the whole year round.

Beside being wonderfully ornamental, crepe myrtles are also incredibly tough. Thanks to the Lagerstroemia fauriei genetics, hybrid varieties are easily able to cope with the heaviest frosts the Downs has to offer and the trees are supremely drought tolerant, once established. Unlike some drought tolerant plants, which perform very poorly in wet conditions, I’m happy to report that the hybrid crepe myrtles will withstand soggy soil for weeks at a time. I’ve got two young specimens planted either side of the front entrance to my property, and despite going under last year in the floods, both plants survived. Crepe myrtles won’t grow in a swamp, but they will do well in all but the heaviest Downs soils.

Two quick tips for growing the best looking trees. Firstly, don’t fall the the temptation to prune crepe myrtles heavily each winter in order to produce flowers. Pruned trees send up lots of watershoots, and the result is a disfigured tree that would have otherwise developed a lovely natural form. If size is an issue and you want a smaller tree, choose one of the smaller growing varieties. Secondly, to prevent powdery mildew on the species and Chopin range of crepe myrtles, plant them in a position with good airflow. Crepe myrtles really aren’t suited to being planted in tight, hedge-like spaces, and benefit from some space to show off.

If you’re after an outstanding deciduous tree or shrub that’s easy to manage and very floriferous, consider planting a crepe myrtle. The Indian Summer varieties in particular are highly gardenworthy plants. And if anyone from Toowoomba Regional Council is reading, please, plant crepe myrtles more often as street trees. They are worthy of being put on public display, and just imagine the sight if the Garden City was lit up each January by the blooms of thousands of crepe myrtles. There are quite a few around the place, I know, but if Toowoomba is famous for its jacarandas, it deserves to be equally famous for its crepe myrtles and their summer spectacle.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 21st January 2011. Photo by Justin Russell, crepe myrtle outside the Hampton Visitor Centre.

Don’t forget to visit our new site The Radish, edible gardening from roots to fruits!!

As I write this week’s Secret Garden, yet another stormy burst of rain is passing overhead and adding some more welcome moisture to the soil. What a month it’s been. Thanks to a La Nina event we’ve now recorded more than 170mm for September here at Thistlebrook. I’ve never seen the garden look so lush.

There’s something really special about the combination of fresh spring growth and consistent rainfall that we’re treated to very infrequently on the Downs. Early perennials are flowering beautifully, roses are producing a huge number of fat buds, and our fruit trees look set for a magnificent crop. Nothing beats regular rain. It’s fair to say that I’m absolutely revelling in the conditions.

This doesn’t mean I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security. Our weather seems to be getting more and more fickle, and last year’s dust storms bounce around in my head like a half remembered nightmare. Who knows what summer will bring. As for next spring – it might turn out worse than 2009. The point is that we can only roughly predict what the weather is going to be like in a month or two. Next spring is more of a punt than a prediction.

One of the things my Mum and Dad taught me was to be prudent, to try and exercise sound judgement in practical affairs. It’s an old fashioned word, prudence, but the virtue is as important as ever, and I think it applies perfectly to the situation we’re in at the moment with the weather.

Here’s how things stand from my point of view. We’ve had outstanding spring rainfall in most parts of the Downs, but does that mean the drought has broken? I’m not so sure. Toowoomba’s dams are currently only 20 percent full even with the Wivenhoe pipeline going full tilt and good rain in the catchments. I live opposite the headwaters of Merrit’s Creek, which flows into Cooby Creek, then into Lake Cooby, and I can assure you that despite 170mm and a wet soil profile, the creek is hardly running a banker. More like a trickle. The other telling point is in the four years we’ve been here, we’re still yet to break our average rainfall total for the year.

I’m optimistic that this will be the year, and my approach is a one of a glass half full, rather than half empty. But if we’re to be really prudent, we need to realise that we’re facing a future of extreme booms and busts. At the moment we’re in a boom. But you can guarantee that around the corner, whether it’s next month, next year or in ten years time, there’s going to be a bust.

This means it’s time to make hay while the sun shines, or in our case as gardeners, to get planting while the soil’s moist and the tanks are full. Normally, I shun spring as my main planting time but this year, I say go for it. Get them in the ground now and hold off on any supplemental watering until regular rainfall ceases. As a rough guide, an inch per week (approximately 25mm) is plenty to get plants well established. If it’s falling from the sky, be prudent, and save the rainwater for a dry spell.

When you’re planting container grown plants, don’t forget to add lots of organic matter to the soil as far ahead of time as possible. Homemade compost is ideal. Well rotted manure is excellent. Bagged compost from the nursery will do the job in a pinch. Whatever is available, get it in there and you’ll find that the soil soaks moisture up like a sponge and gradually releases it to developing roots as plants get established.

If you are wondering what to plant, two things that immediately spring to mind are shade trees, to help beat the heat when it’s hot and dry, and windbreaks. One of the major inhibitors to strong plant growth is wind. After last year’s string of north westerlies that blew directly from the desert for weeks on end, and carried some of the desert with them, it should have finally dawned on us all that the more we can create a sheltered microclimate, the better our plants will grow and the nicer the garden will be.

Finally a pat on the back – Downs gardeners have done really well with conserving water over the last few years. We’ve changed many outdated practices for good, and even now that restrictions have eased somewhat, we’re still only using around 120 litres per person per day. This is a great achievement. But let’s not rest on our laurels. Conditions can change quickly, and the time to plan for the bust is now, during a boom. It’s the only prudent thing to do.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 2nd October 2010. Photo by Justin Russell – Thistlebrook in spring.

Regular readers of Secret Garden know that I’m a weather nerd, so it should come as little surprise to hear that at the end of each month, I religiously pull out my rainfall record and tally up the total for the preceding four weeks. Some months, the figure is cause for celebration, and optimism for the weeks ahead. Other months, more than I’d like to admit, it’s commiserations all round.

July was the latter. A paltry 24mm (one inch for the imperialists!) fell in the gauge – about half the long term Hampton average. This is just enough to keep the garden afloat during a cool winter, but on the back of an even paltrier 11mm in June, means that we’re heading into our driest months of the year with precious little moisture in the soil.

For purely ornamental gardens, a dry outlook isn’t much of a big deal. It means some jobs might need to be put off, and that some extra watering might be necessary to help young plants get established. But my garden is mostly about food. I’m setting it up to supply my family with as much home grown produce as possible from my two acre smallholding, and in this regard, it’s vital that I keep an eye on the weather forecasts and plan accordingly. The question is, how do you plan ahead when the weather is so fickle?

A good part of the answer is to understand the distinction between weather, and climate. Time is the key factor. Weather might be described as the atmospheric conditions over a short period of time, whereas climate refers to atmospheric patterns that occur over a long period of time. Global warming aside, climate is closely associated with the seasons and therefore, tends to be relatively stable, and consistent. With this in mind, my strategy should be to do what farmers do and plan for the months ahead using my garden’s long term climate as a basic guide.

The other thing I can do to plan ahead is consult indigenous culture, which in my view is a greatly overlooked source of wisdom about how to live well on earth’s driest inhabited continent. In Aboriginal society, landscape, plants, animals, ancestors and weather are all interconnected. By accumulating an intricate knowledge of the continent’s various climates over tens of thousands of years, the indigenous Australians developed a subtle description of the seasons and used their knowledge to predict the timing of various shifts in the weather.

As many as six, or as few as three seasons were recognised, depending on the location. In contrast, British settlers relied upon the basic four season description of summer-autumn-winter-spring so applicable to northern Europe. Though this remains the predominant model, indigenous wisdom is gradually being recognised.

Brisbane-based Gardening Australia presenter Jerry Coleby-Williams has taken a cue from indigenous climate observation to suggest that south-east Queensland experiences a fifth season. After a very brief spring in late August and early September, Jerry has observed that a pre-summer season occurs before the summer wet begins in December. He calls this pre-summer season “crematoria”.

It’s a foreboding kind of name, but one that perfectly describes the typically hot, dry, and windy weather that can persist during September, October and November. Last year we had a classic crematoria season marked by regular dust storms, and hot, north-westerly winds –awful conditions for gardening, particularly the establishment of new plants. Lots of gardeners relying on tank irrigation ran out of water.

Now I’m yet to hear the BOM identify a fifth season called crematoria, and in fact, the official climate models are predicting the development of a La Nina weather pattern during late spring and early summer. In other words it could get wet, and the evidence for crematoria is entirely anecdotal. But in my view Jerry’s on to something. If I’m to be serious about planning ahead for the coming season I’d be smart to take into consideration the potential for a few dry and windy months.

Here then, is my crematoria action plan: I’ll try to give young fruit trees better protection from drying wind and will water regularly; I’ll try to complete major plant-outs in the vegie garden following a rain event, instead of blindly following the calendar; I’ll top dress as many plants as possible with compost and replenish mulch in garden beds and around trees; I’ll attempt to make stored rainwater go further by using soil wetters and incorporating as much rotted organic matter as possible. Beyond that, I’ll continue to hold out hope that late 2010 will produce the creek flowing, dam filling rain we still so desperately need.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 7th August 2010.

Conifer. As one of the very few plants that I have a love/hate relationship with, the very word is full of mixed emotions for me. On the one hand, I find conifers beautifully evocative plants that can conjure up romantic images of Tuscan villas and alpine forests. The reverie lasts until I drive through a 1960’s Toowoomba subdivision and struggle to appreciate an endless parade of front gardens filled with little other than dwarf or clipped conifers. In this situation they look more like a nineteenth century funeral procession – stoic, dour, sombre.

What a shame we got such wonderful plants so badly wrong. Conifers have many overlooked virtues. They are supremely tough plants, thanks largely to their needle like foliage which limits moisture loss and resists drying winds. Many conifers are remarkably free from disease, and are little troubled by insect pests. They are some of the most widely distributed plants on earth, able to survive in all but the harshest climates and found on every continent.

From a garden design point of view, another virtue is their pyramidal or columnar growth patterns. Few plants have such a strikingly defined shape, which means that conifers are the perfect trees for situations requiring bold planting. The Italians got it right. They used fastigiate (upright) cypresses to strongly define entrances, line avenues, frame views and emphasise vertical elements like walls. In Aussie suburbia we’ve done weird things like give tall growing conifers “flat top” haircuts, or tie wires around the tree to constrict the foliage. Surely we’d be much better off working with a plant’s natural inclinations, or planting an alternative.

Though only about 600 species occur in the wild, there are literally hundreds of different conifers to choose from in cultivation. Some make the perfect, low maintenance groundcover, such as shore juniper, Juniperus conferta. Others make an excellent farm windbreak, such as Bhutan cypress, Cupressus torulosa. Other conifers produce edible nuts such as Pinus pinea, and lots make stunning specimen trees, such as the weeping Atlantic cedar, Cedrus atlantica ‘Glauca Pendula’.

Conifers range from dwarf shrubs less than a metre in height to 100 metre tall giants. Bearing this in mind, it almost goes without saying that wisdom should be exercised when choosing from such a diverse array of plants. My advice is to do some research. Use discretion. Don’t stick a Dawn Redwood in your courtyard, be careful in how you use gold and blue coloured conifers, and above all, try to avoid the “miniature Switzerland look”.

Gardens filled with little other than conifers became wildly popular during the suburban expansion of the 60’s and 70’s, particularly in highland areas like Toowoomba, where the reasoning seemed to be “mountain climate equals mountainesque landscaping”. To some extent this is correct, but Toowoomba is hardly the Swiss Alps. If you’re a collector, you’ll probably want to plant conifers like there’s no tomorrow, but most home gardeners will fare better with a mixed garden containing a range of different plants.

We shouldn’t overlook Australia’s native conifers either. I have a real soft spot for the Araucaria “pines” and their relatives. You only need to take a drive from the Bunya Mountains to Toowoomba via the New England Highway to realise that big, ancient trees like Araucaria bidwillii (Bunya pine), Araucaria cunninghamii (Hoop pine) and Agathis robusta (Kauri pine) thrive in the red soil country along the escarpment.

These stately conifers were once quite a common sight in suburban gardens throughout Toowoomba, but our modern obsession with health and safety has seen lots of domestic trees removed. I grew up with a massive Bunya pine in the backyard, so it always makes me a bit sad to see an arborist dangling from the top of a 20 metre tall specimen wielding a chainsaw. Lest a Bunya nut lands on someone’s head, another big old beauty bites the dust.

Well, stuff health and safety! Council will probably get their knickers in a knot but I say where there’s space, bring back the big native conifers. Not only did they provide welcome shade in a city rapidly looking like a tin roof jungle, but the old Bunyas, hoops and kauris helped define Toowoomba’s treasured Garden City identity. Let’s not forget how unique the Bunya is to our corner of the world. I think it should be celebrated as one of the city’s icons, and I’d love to see it planted appropriately, but happily, by all and sundry.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 10th July 2010. Photo by Justin Russell, “Blue Fir” Glenrock, Tenterfield.

I was saddened last week to hear about the death of Highfields winemaker and avid conservationist, Don McLean. Though I didn’t know Don well, he struck me as a likeable sort of bloke, happy and quick to smile, always ready to disarm someone with his cheeky sense of humour. Don was generous too. When I toured his vineyard and interviewed him for a story a couple of years ago, I came away not only brimming with knowledge about growing grapes and the winemaking process, but sporting two bottles of Highfields finest to boot. It was an unexpected gesture from a really genuine person.

In the brief time that I knew him, I learnt a few worthwhile lessons from Don. One was to care deeply about your place in the world. On one of my visits to Highfields Wines, Don took me on a tour of the property where he shared openly about his love for the land and his determination to care for it.

He told me about the indigenous history of the Cawdor district, pointing out landmarks where the first inhabitants conducted ceremonies and showing me sites on the property where artefacts had been found. Don showed me the property’s permanent creek and natural waterfall which is believed to be a campsite on one of the trails used by Aboriginal tribes travelling to the Bunya Mountains for the great bunya nut feasts. He showed me parts of the property gradually being revegetated using native plants, and we even stopped to check out a rare native crinum, blooming for the first time in years thanks to good summer rain.

Don introduced me to a little known gem of a place called Franke Scrub, a pocket of dry rainforest in a gully adjoining his property that is untouched by bushfire or the logger’s chainsaw. Franke Scrub is a remnant of the forest that covered much of the escarpment prior to suburban development and contains an unusually diverse mix of rare and endangered plants and native fauna. I was left with no doubt that Don was determined to see the scrub protected, despite plans at the time to build a new road smack through the middle of it.

Another thing I learnt from Don was the importance of looking after your soil. Highfields Wines is one of just a handful of unirrigated vineyards in Australia. When Don planted the first vines in 1998, he defied conventional practice at the time by purchasing plants grafted onto a drought resistant rootstock, planting the vines into ground that was deep ripped to half a metre, watering just once upon planting, and then covering the soil with mulch. Not a single vine from this first planting was lost. Don conceded that 1998 was wet, but suggested that ongoing success through severe drought was due to the vines’ extensive root system and the continually increasing capacity of the soil to store moisture.

This kind of careful husbandry has benefits for the winemaker and the drinker too. By growing vines without irrigation Don was able to produce fruit of intense flavour, and through the application of animal manures and blood and bone rather than synthetic urea, he managed to make what he described as “hangover free wine”. Studies have subsequently shown a link between urea, and the headaches some people get as a result of drinking wine.

A trendy word to describe Don’s approach to winemaking would be “holistic”. I think he was probably more pragmatic than that, preferring to see it simply as common sense: for the land to sustain future generations, it has to be carefully nurtured, not abused. In other words, you reap what you sow.

The final thing I learnt from Don, was that it’s okay, even necessary sometimes, to adopt a DIY approach to life. Don had a background in agricultural science, but as a winemaker, he was completely self-taught. He joked that his winemaking consultant was his partner Alison, and that he relied on old fashioned techniques like testing out his own product. “We rely on taste, smell and sight to produce our wines, not a computer,” Don told me. His approach proved to be both sustainable and successful.

I offer my sincere condolences to Don McLean’s family and friends. No doubt he will be sorely missed, and I’m thankful that I got to meet Don, and learn something from his determined approach to life.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle, 22nd May 2010. Photo by Justin Russell – Don in his vineyard.

Sustainable. This is my personal theme for the year, a New Year’s resolution of sorts that I shared with Secret Garden readers back in January. The more curious among you are probably wondering how I’m faring, so I thought it might be instructive on this first winter weekend to again spill the beans and offer a brief run down on my successes and failures to date. Here goes.

1. Replace petrol powered machinery with manual labour and electric power.

The area of energy use has proven to be a challenge in the sense that I’ve actually added a petrol powered machine rather than replaced one. To my ride-on mower and whipper snipper, I’ve added a chipper. I suppose this is one step forward and one back, because by chipping branches and other green material, I’m reducing the amount of waste that leaves the property and creating mulch. The downside is the extra petrol use.

2. Producing home-made fertiliser and other soil amendments.

Some progress is being made in this area. I’ve been using green manures to improve soil structure and boost organic content, and thanks to a perennial supply of material left over from the vegetable garden, I’m witnessing the gradual decomposition of a rather massive compost pile. I’m recycling potash from winter fires for use on flowering plants, and the chook pen is about 80 percent finished. A flock of at least half a dozen birds will be in by spring, boosting our fertility system enormously.

3. Rainwater harvesting and efficient irrigation.

At this point I’m relying solely on rainwater to irrigate the garden, though I’m conscious of the need to increase our harvesting capacity to account for growth in our nursery business. To make up the shortfall, recycled water from our on-site sewerage system will be used to drip irrigate fruit trees, and we hope to be in a position to purchase more rainwater tanks in the second half of the year. I’ve also been busy planting windbreaks to help prevent plants drying out, and continue to mulch extensively.

4. Purchase quality, long lasting tools.

To be honest, this has been pretty easy too achieve. Like most gardeners, I’ve got a thing for tools, so it hasn’t been hard to shop for good quality gear. I’ve replaced a cheap pruning saw and hedge shears with professional grade models, and after getting fed up with plastic watering cans, I purchased a decent English version built from heavy galvanised steel. Besides being much more durable than plastic, the new can is easier to carry and pour, and the brass rose allows for efficient delivery of water to everything from seedlings to newly planted trees.

5. Avoid excess packaging and recycle.

This is the hardest of the lot. I’ve started buying things like fertiliser, mulch and seaweed extract in bulk to reduce packaging, but to be honest there are still lots of containers and plastic packets that get tossed in the bin. At our place we don’t have a rubbish collection service, which means we don’t have access to a wheelie bin for recyclable material. I really need to find another recycling option rather than dumping stuff in landfill. On the upside, my shed is starting to look like downtown New York thanks to growing towers of stacked plastic pots.

So there you have it. A mid-year report card on my efforts to become more sustainable that can be best described as mixed. In my defence, I’ve found that it’s hard to make wholesale changes in just a few months, and learnt that what’s important is a commitment to incremental, long term change.

I’ve also found the lack of support for sustainability from the nursery and garden industry a surprise. In my experience, the wholesale nurseries in particular remain conservative and reluctant to embrace genuine green innovation. Take plastic pots for example. How many nurseries do you know that offer a discount on plants if pots are returned for recycling? How many offer the option of bare-root (pot free) plants and biodegradable pots? How many sell vegie seedlings in pots made from coconut fibre? All of these options exist, but are yet to be given a decent go.

If the general gardening public is to change, the garden industry needs to offer its support by embracing changes of its own. Green initiatives might cost a bit more initially but as in other industries, economies of scale will reduce prices and facilitate the changes gardeners have every desire to make. I for one would be more than happy to pay a bit extra for something that helps, rather than hinders my efforts to garden more sustainably. Wouldn’t you?

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 6th June 2009. Photo by Justin Russell.