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.
