When I started writing Secret Garden nearly three years ago, I naively assumed that ideas for the column would flow from my brain like water tumbling from a mountain spring. My wife, who is wiser than me by spades, warned me otherwise, and now three years in, the reality is proving to be closer to her vision than mine. Some weeks, in the dead of winter especially, the relatively simple task of putting together 700 or so coherent words looks nothing like a gushing stream and actually bears a much closer resemblance to a desperate man trying to get blood from a proverbial stone.
On days like this, the best remedy is to take a wander through the garden, camera in hand, in search of inspiration. It usually comes. Today though, I was in town until after dark and inspiration tends to be hard to come by when the lights are out. So for something different, I took a stroll through Queen’s Park Gardens in Lindsay Street, known for most of their history as the Botanic Gardens.
A couple of things struck me as soon as I stepped through the gate. One was how green the lawns were. At home, they’ve been burnt by frost, but here in Toowoomba’s east the lawns obviously stay lush during all but the coldest winters. The other aspect of the gardens that stood out was the trees. It’s easy to forget just how magnificent an ancient, massive Kauri Pine can be, or how much you want to peel the flaking bark of a naked River Birch. The oaks in particular were especially wonderful, turning their characteristic shades of paper-bag brown.
The real highlight though was the Camellia walk along the garden’s southern boundary. I wonder sometimes if the autumn blooming sasanquas are but a support act, intended to warm us up for the real stars of June – Camellia japonica. I absolutely love their large, glossy leaves, and to me, the huge plate-sized flowers in sumptuous shades of red, pink and crystalline white leaven the drabbest winter’s day. So I arrived at the park short of inspiration, and went home buzzing with enthusiasm for the camellias I’ve planted in my own garden.
As a species, Camellia japonica has given rise to a vast number of cultivars. More than 2000 in fact, so it’s always a slightly fraught exercise to start making recommendations. Rather than that, I’ll tell you about some of the camellias I’ve got growing my own garden, and some favourites from Queen’s Park Gardens and elsewhere.
My all time favourite japonica is ‘Nuccio’s Gem’. What a stunner! Featuring white, semi-double flowers more pure than the driven snow, and a growth habit that’s vigorous and upright, Nuccio’s Gem is one of those plants that begs for attention, but in the calmest, most enchanting voice imaginable. It’s a truly classy plant.
Then there’s ‘Great Eastern’. A magnificent testament to Australia’s long held fascination with the genus, there’s an old specimen in the grounds of Sydney’s Government House dating back to 1872. I’m a fan of red flowers, and to me, ‘Great Eastern’s’ contrast of rich crimson bloom and deep green leaf is nature at her painterly best.
Finally, I planted an unusual cultivar called ‘Courtesan’ just last month. This Australian bred japonica was named in honour of Marie Duplessis, a French prostitute who always wore a camellia in her hair and was immortalised by Alexandre Dumas in his novel The Lady of the Camellias. It’s a seedling of ‘Great Eastern’ with a twist, boasting pink and white striped flowers that offer a real lightness and energy to a dull, wintry corner of the garden.
My search for inspiration is over. At least for today. There are camellias to enjoy, and more to plant no doubt, and funnily enough, lots of other things in the garden suddenly screaming for attention as well. Isn’t it amazing how a dull time of the year can immediately be transformed into a thing of wonder and beauty courtesy of all things – plants. Thank goodness for Camellia japonica.
First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle July 4th 2009. Photo by Justin Russell.
