Thistlebrook — Everybody needs beauty as well as bread.

New Year Greetings

by Justin Russell on January 16, 2010

Happy New Year to one and all! We trust that you had a thoroughly enjoyable Christmas season, and have started the new year (new decade!) in a spirit of enthusiasm and hope.

There’s lots to look forward to this year. We’re looking forward to some favourable growing weather over autumn and winter for one, but I’m also tipping that 2010 will be the year that the whole idea of “home growing” really starts to resonate. I’ll be posting some updates over the next couple of days that tap into this theme, so keep an eye out.

For the clan here at Thistlebrook, the last month or so has been a whirlwind of family gatherings, busy days spent gardening, and thanks to a couple of rainy weeks, more than a few quiet moments spend inside reading books. After our very dry spring, the rain was welcomed with open arms. Since December 20, 170mm has fallen into the gauge, a very respectable total and enough to really stimulate plants into strong growth plus top up all our rainwater tanks. The net result is that the garden is looking the best it ever has.

What does the New Year hold for Thistlebrook? Bare root fruit trees for sure. Our second catalogue of varieties ideal for home growers will be out in early March, and delivery will again commence in early July. We’ve grafted an expanded range of heritage apples this year, which we’re excited to offer, in addition to a broader range of nut trees, stonefruit, and pome fruit. All being well, we’ll have a few rarer trees for sale as well, including medlars and weeping apples.

Plans are also afoot to substantially increase our range of potted food producing plants. These, along with a small range of heirloom vegie seedlings, will be offered for sale by appointment at the nursery, by local delivery, and hopefully at local markets.

One piece of disappointing news: it looks like the workshops are off, at least in the proposed format. To date we’ve had a total lack of interest from the punters, which suggests that something is amiss (possibly our timing), so after much consideration we’re decided that the best option is to look at a less regular workshop schedule, perhaps seasonally. Still thinking it through, and details will be posted in due course.

This is by no means the end of the world. Kylie and I always planned for Thistlebrook to be a dynamic, fluid, responsive enterprise that can swiftly alter course and change to meet demand. We’ve got no plans to become giant corporate schmucks. Instead, we’re seeking to run our business the in much the same way we try to run our lives – with humility, passion, honesty, and joy. We’d love for you to join us in whatever capacity you can, be it purchasing a couple of fruit trees for backyard, or simply by signing up for our free regular updates (you’ll find a couple of subscription options in the right hand column of this website).

Thanks again for your support and let’s all raise a glass to a big year of home growing in 2010!

cheers,

Justin

{ 2 comments }

Justin’s Gardening A to Z for 2010

by Justin Russell on January 13, 2010

Apples. The recent 39 degree temperatures proved how resilient apple trees really are. Give them adequate water for the first few years, and they’ll provide sweet rewards for the next couple of hundred.

Berries. Soft fruit like raspberries are delightfully easy to grow given the right conditions, and they’ll fit in all kinds of awkward spaces. Plus, they’re delicious!

Colour. Colour can energise those parts of the garden that need excitement, and provide a sense of relaxed calm in other parts. Or, you can break all the rules and do your own thing.

Dam Levels. Those gardeners connected to Toowoomba’s water supply can look forward to a relaxation of water restrictions in 2010. Let’s not get too carried away though. Water is our most precious resource, and we still need to find ways to use it wisely.

Enthusiasm. If you’re a beginning gardener, don’t let the garden snobs put you off. As far as I’m concerned gardening is a pursuit open to all who have the enthusiasm to give it a go.

Frogs. I believe that gardeners have a responsibility to make a home for wildlife, particularly struggling species like native frogs. Ditch the chemicals and create some habitat.

Global Warming. It’s real, it’s happening, and it will affect Downs gardeners in all sorts of unforeseen ways. Experiment with plants that can handle the booms and busts.

Healing. Don’t underestimate the role gardening can play in healing the body or a busted heart. As garden writer Michael McCoy says “We’re nurtured as we nurture”.

Imperfection. Gardens are alive. They are, therefore, imperfect. This is hard for neat freaks to accept, but on occasions it’s worth letting nature have its head.

Jimbour Station. One of the most inspiring gardens on the Downs. It’s spacious, immaculately maintained and the 19^th century style veg garden is a stunner.

Kids. Minimalist, formal style gardens are hostile to lots of things, but none more so than kids. My advice is to loosen up. Make time and space for children.

Labiates. In 2009 I found plants in the Lamiaceae or mint family to be especially useful. Salvias are a favourite, but the family includes agastaches, westringia and many more gardenworthy plants.

Makeovers. The noughties were all about the garden makeover, which has little in common with actual garden making. I’m guessing that the next decade will see the backyard fruit and veg garden make a big comeback.

Nasturtiums. It’s time to rediscover nasturtiums. They’re dead easy to grow, edible and beautiful to boot. I like the old fashioned varieties that scramble all over the place.

Olives. One of the most adaptable plants is the humble European olive tree. Plant them in groves, use them for hedges, or plant one a single specimen tree. They’re worth it.

Poultry. Keeping a few chooks in the garden is a decision few people regret. They’re an outstanding source of manure and a charming presence to have clucking around.

Quercus. One of the most magnificent trees I’ve ever seen is a southern live oak Quercus virginiana, in the grounds of Geham State School. Absolutely worth a spot in a large garden.

Recycle. It’s easy to produce lots of gardening waste, but with some care and thought, it’s possible to minimise what goes into landfill by recycling. Ditch your green bin – compost instead.

Soil. The big dust storm in September ought to be a stark reminder that soil is vital to human life, but if we treat it mean it can blow away, wash down the creek, or fill with salt.

Time. Despite our protestations and fertilisations, plants take time to get established. In 2010, I’m resolving to relish the journey, rather than anticipating the destination.

Ugliness. Modern society dishes out ugliness in droves, be it in the form of buildings, street violence, fashion or electrical retailer ads. Fight back by making your garden beautiful.

Vegies. If you thought 2009 was a big year for home vegie growing, wait until 2010. My tip is that old fashioned veg gardens will be springing up in backyards all over Toowoomba and beyond.

Whining. One of my dad’s favourite sayings is “no-one likes a whinger”. Instead of longing for greener pastures, let’s resolve to make the most of what we’ve got.

X-Factor. To set your garden apart from the crowd, have the confidence to let it truly reflect the personality of you, and your family. The best gardens bear the signature of their owners.

Generation Y. Never before has a generation been so disconnected from nature. Those of us who are experienced growers would be smart to pass on our knowledge and love of gardening.

Zzzz. That’s quite enough for one year. Happy gardening in 2010!

First published in The Chronicle, 26th December 2009.

{ 0 comments }

Christmas Traditions

by Justin Russell on January 13, 2010

Just six days to go and our household will be waking at the crack of dawn to three very excited children. Christmas is nearly here, and with it will come all the paraphernalia that is now associated with one of our few remaining ancient festivals. There’ll be lots of long standing traditions as well, many involving plants, but in the hub-bub of presents and food we don’t tend to dwell upon those. Do you ever stop to think about why on earth we decorate a plastic pine tree? What’s with the tradition of hanging a holly wreath at the front door?

To understand the meaning behind many of these traditions, we have to first put Christmas in a geographical context. In Australia we’re blessed with a wealth of evergreen plants able to survive our relatively mild winters, but in Europe, evergreen plants are actually quite limited in number. Conifers such as yew and fir are the mainstay because of their fine leaves, while others like holly, box, and ivy had tough enough foliage to withstand heavy frosts and snow. Little wonder that in a mostly drab winterscape, people felt the need to bring a bit of greenery into the house. In fifteenth century London it was recorded that at Christmas, every house and parish church was “decked with holm, ivy, bays, and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green”.

Our Christmas tradition of adorning a conifer with baubles and other decorations dates back to the Middle Ages, when the Church would hang apples from a tree on Christmas eve, a date on the Medieval calendar known as “Adam and Eve Day”. The chosen tree was an evergreen, most likely a fir tree because it would hold its leaves throughout the European winter, symbolising life and renewal.

Christmas is also about the pear tree. One 18^th century tradition during the twelve day Christmas festival was to go “wassailing” in local pear and apple orchards. The term wassail means be whole or be in good health, and wassailers would pour cider, perry, honey, spices and pulp from baked apples around trees in the orchard in the hope that they might thrive and produce bumper crops. An old rhyme goes: “Wassaile the trees, that they may beare / You many a Plum and many a Peare: / For more or lesse fruits they will bring, / As you do give them Wassailing.”

Rural folklore tells us that the male partridge was once considered in the same light as the rabbit is today – a lusty suitor capable of producing many offspring. So a partridge in a pear tree had connotations of fertility, one of the most common pagan preoccupations. Then there’s the Christian tradition, which suggests that the partridge represents Jesus Christ, the gift of Christmas, and the pear tree symbolising the cross on which he died.

Oliver Cromwell and his post-Reformation Puritan cronies tried to put an end to all this frivolity in the mid 1600’s. Moralisers and wowsers to a man, the Puritans believed that Christmas was a Catholic festival with pagan practices and no biblical basis. So, in 1647 they passed an ordinance banning Christmas. As with most bans, the festival simply went underground. Clandestine church services were held on December 25th and violent clashes occurred in places like Canterbury and London between supporters and opponents of Christmas. Songs such as the Twelve Days of Christmas became radical protest anthems.

The next time you hang a bauble from a pine tree, it’s worth remembering that Christmas has a lot more going for it than spend-ups and booze-ups. Its traditions are deeper and richer than just family get togethers, and its history can help inform the way we live our lives in the future. Decorate your home with evergreens. Bake some apples. Hang a wreath of native holly from the front door. Get beyond the superficiality of what’s become a festival of commerce, and reclaim the old ways of celebrating the 12 day festival the Medievals called Christmastide.

To loyal readers of Secret Garden: a sincere thankyou for supporting the column again in 2009. I count it a great privilege to write about something I love every week, and hope that you’ve caught a bit of my passion for gardening, the seasons and the natural world. Best wishes for a happy and meaningful Christmas, and here’s to a big year of home growing in 2010.

First published in The Chronicle 19th December 2009.

{ 0 comments }

Stop Press! Workshops Starting in February

by Justin Russell on December 7, 2009

Marley pulling carrots, December 2008

Back in early October we announced that our gardening workshops were being put on hold for the foreseeable future. Well, we’ve had a change of heart. It’s all systems go here at Thistlebrook as we prepare for our first workshop next February. Lots of people expressed their disappointment that our courses weren’t going ahead as planned, which convinces Kylie and I that there are plenty of you out there who’ve been bitten by the home growing bug like we have, but need some guidance getting started, just like we did. The weather over the last five months has been poor so our garden may not look as lush as it can do after good rain, but the most important bits (like the vegie patch and espalier orchard) will be in top form when you visit. We’re absolutely raring to go!

Our debut workshop will be held on February 6th 2010. In the following months we’ll be hosting a workshop every fortnight on topics such as “Patch From Scratch”, “Homegrown Fruit”, “Soil and Compost” and “Organic Pest Control”. Check out the full workshop calendar, and get in touch if you have any questions or want to make a booking. All our workshops will include hands-on experience and practical demonstrations, helpful take-home course notes, and delicious home-made fare using our own produce and the best ingredients from local farmers. Plus, our on-site, “gastronomic plants” nursery will be open to workshop attendees, so it’s a great opportunity to pick up some of the plants you need to start Growing It Yourself.

So why not spend an inspirational day with us here at Thistlebrook, or better still, purchase a gift voucher for a gardening friend and attend a workshop together. You’ll head home full of enthusiasm for one of life’s most satisfying pursuits – growing organic fruit and vegies right in your own backyard.

{ 0 comments }

Gardening in a changing climate

by Justin Russell on December 7, 2009

Next week the 2009 United Nations Climate Change Conference kicks off, but already climate is the word on everyone’s lips thanks to the Liberal Party of Australia. Professor Ross Garnaut described the issue as diabolical for policy makers, but you would have been canny indeed to predict that an Australian political party would willingly feed itself through the shredder because it couldn’t fathom the idea that human activity might be warming the planet.

For us gardeners, climate change is a vexing issue. Its unpredictability means that none of us are really sure how we ought to deal with it. Denial is tempting. It would be really nice if nothing changed, but you’d have to be living under a rock to ignore the increasing volatility of our climate here on the Downs. To work with plants and soil and seasons is getting trickier by the day.

I feel like I should state categorically my position on climate change. Some readers have asked, and I see no sense in keeping you in the dark. So here goes. It’s my view that the overwhelming majority of the world’s climate scientists have made a compelling case that human activity is warming the planet, to the detriment of human existence. I believe that we need to take collective action to reduce the emission of polluting gases into the atmosphere, and I disagree entirely with the fantastical notion that environmentalism is all part of a plot by failed communists. Should I honestly start warning my kids about the greens under their beds?

Let me add a caveat to what I’ve just said. I love the natural world, and can see that the environment is essential for life – without a healthy planet, we’re extinct. But I think it’s a great folly to become myopic about global warming, to see it as a stand alone issue. It’s not. While I support urgent action on global warming, I’d argue that whatever action we take must also encompass the suite of environmental issues including energy, water, chemical exposure, pollution, deforestation and species loss. Most, if not all of these are the result of excessive consumption, or put plainly, human greed and arrogance. A curtailing of emissions ought to be accompanied by a curtailing of these attitudes in tandem.

So that’s where I stand. I’ve got no doubt that some of you are now rejoicing and others are branding me with whatever label you think fits (socialist/greenie/lefty – if I had to choose one I’d go for “agrarian”, just quietly). That’s your prerogative. Mine is to write about gardening, and to that end, I think the main way gardeners can best deal with climate change is by adhering to a simple principle: love the natural world.

That’s going to sound completely balmy to those of you who reached for your label a bit earlier. I hope you’ll read on, because I’m not suggesting that we all start hugging trees. My aim is to treat the environment the way I seek to treat my wife, with respect, compassion, admiration, gentleness and a desire to see her thrive.

To put this in a gardening context, it means I need to behave in a particular way. The starting point is to put my ego in my back pocket, and practise humility. The parcel of land I refer to as “my garden” might reflect my personality and tastes, but ownership exists only by means of a piece of paper. The true role of the gardener is one of caretaker, or to use an old fashioned term, steward. Above all else, gardening in a changing climate means that I have a responsibility to exercise great care in how I manage the land, since I am only keeping it on behalf of future generations.

Whether you’re a climate sceptic or not you, whether you believe in emissions trading as a means of limiting global warming or not, the crux of the issue is plain and simple. Backyard by backyard, suburb by suburb, our self-centredness and greed is stuffing up the planet. But in my mind at least, the solution is just as plain and equally simple. If we can get over ourselves and learn to love the natural world within the patch of dirt we have responsibility for, there’s plenty of hope to suggest that our newfound sense of stewardship can extend to the environment beyond the backyard. It’s time to get real. Put politics aside, acknowledge the mess we’ve made of the world, and starting in your own garden, make every effort to put things back in order.

First published in The Chronicle 5th December 2009. Photo by Justin Russell.

{ 0 comments }

The Promise of Home Grown Stonefruit

by Justin Russell on December 2, 2009

Stonefruit season has arrived again. At least according to the supermarkets, that is. I bought some early season nectarines this morning and honestly, they’re hard enough for Andrew Symonds to whack for six over the straight boundary at the Gabba. The kids tried one though and loved it, so in the interests of fairness, I’ve sliced the cheek off a piece of fruit tonight just to give it a go. I may as well have eaten an early Granny Smith. The nectarine was crunchy, sour, dry, and lacking even a hint of the melting sweetness I crave.

Why must every piece of fruit have the texture of a crisp apple? Is this trend toward conformity a ploy of the food marketing boffins or is it driven by the demand of consumers who’ve never tasted a premium, home-grown piece of fruit? Are we not mature enough to enjoy a range of textures and flavours, like we do with other types of food? Imagine how bland dining out would be if every vegetable on the plate had the texture of raw carrots and every cut of meat tasted like a prawn. You’d be bored stiff.

Let me use the poor old peach as a means of illustrating my point. Big commercial growers and their customers, the supermarkets and fruit shops, are highly unlikely to ever sell a properly ripe peach. Why? A properly ripe peach is soft. It will travel poorly, and just a bit of pressure from a neighbouring piece of fruit will bruise the flesh and allow rot to quickly set it, rendering the fruit unsaleable. Add to that issue the furriness of a peach’s skin. It’s never worried me, but lots of people seem to be so put off by a bit of peach fuzz that they prefer to eat a nectarine, even though a nectarine is simply a smooth skinned peach.

One of the great joys of growing your own fruit is that you are invited to enter a world of diversity. Unlike much of our society, which seems intent on becoming “progressively” more homogenous, home grown fruit promises variety. It enables the home grower to include a few different trees to extend not just the range of flavours, but the length of the harvest. If space is limited, even a single tree offers variety by enabling the grower to pick fruit at various stages of ripeness. I’ll take a choice like this any day over the dictates of a massive supermarket chain.

If you share my enthusiasm for home grown stone fruit, here are my picks of some of the best varieties for the backyard.

Apricots

For centuries the heirloom variety ‘Moorpark’ has been a favourite with both home and commercial growers, and in my view it’s still the pick of the crop. Exquisite flavour and a melting texture. ‘Trevatt’ was bred in Victoria as an all purpose variety that is good bottled, dried, or eaten fresh. Provide well drained soil and a position protected from spring frosts.

Peaches

‘Anzac’ is an Australian bred heirloom that crops early, bears heavily, and features white flesh that makes for very good eating. For those wanting to try their hand at preserving, the variety par excellence is ‘Golden Queen’, though any late ripening, clingstone variety will perform well. Why grow an ornamental flowering peach when you can grow a fruiting variety?

Nectarines

A forgotten variety in the commercial drive for visual perfection, ‘Goldmine’ isn’t much of a looker, yet its white flesh tastes superb. It has the added bonus of being resistant to the fungal disease Peach Leaf Curl. The variety ‘Fantasia’ sounds like a nightclub but it’s actually the world’s most widely grown nectarine, which says something about the quality. All nectarines are self-fertile.

Plums

I’m a sucker for the old European plums like ‘Greengage’ and ‘Coe’s Golden Drop’, considering them to be handsome trees with unbeatable fruit. If I were to put sentimentality aside though, I’d recommend Japanese plums, a distinct species, as the best plum for the average home grower. If a single tree is required ‘Santa Rosa’ is the pick because it doesn’t require a pollinator, but if you have space for a second tree ‘Elephant Heart’ produces blood plums with a delicious cherry flavour.

Cherries

For those living in the higher chill parts of the Downs, cherries are an excellent crop for the backyard. ‘Stella’ is my pick, being self-fertile, resistant to cracking (a problem with cherries), and a slightly dwarfing tree. Another favourite is ‘Napoleon’, an old French cherry that produces delicious yellow-red fruit in time for Christmas. Pollinate with Stella.

First published in The Chronicle 28th November 2009. Photo by Justin Russell.

{ 1 comment }

Climbing plants: the rampant and the genteel

by Justin Russell on November 26, 2009

My wife had a long held dream of owning a garden containing an arbour festooned with honeysuckle. It sounds romantic, doesn’t it, but I felt compelled to remind her that in our last garden we grubbed out trailer loads of the stuff after it went rampant under prior ownership and was on the verge of taking over the whole front garden. Well, her dream has come true. At our front gate is an arbour covered in honeysuckle, currently flowering its rampant little head off.

I have to admit that the scent of honeysuckle carried on a gentle breeze is like nothing else. Fruity, with a hint of pineapple, it almost convinces me to be appreciative. But I remain wary. Honeysuckle is one of those plants that’s welcome when kept in check, but hated when its invasive nature gets the better of it. The vines have a tendency to flop along the ground and form new roots, so I keep it on a firm leash with regular pruning and I never give it any fertiliser. For now, the honeysuckle earns a reprieve because it makes Kylie happy. And you know what they say, happy wife, happy life.

The experience many people have with climbers is that they are invasive, destructive, and even a bit alien like. People have visions of their homes being swallowed up by a rampant climber from the jungles of South America, and there is some reality to this scenario. Some climbers do come from jungle environments where they have to climb vigorously toward the light. Others are naturally adapted to growing on trees, and are able to cling without the need for tendrils. Others form heavy vines that will crush a support lacking in strength. But there are some that have a temperament more conducive to gardens. They play nicely, don’t destroy fences and won’t get in to the ceiling or crack the brickwork.

Wisteria grows strongly and needs a solid support but it could hardly be described as rampant. Likewise edible grape vines. They’ll do a brilliant job of shading a chook house without reducing it to rubble. Another favourite of mine is the old fashioned snail vine, Vigna caracalla. It’s a bean relative that grows quickly in spring before putting on a beautiful display of curly flowers in summer, regardless of heat and drought. In my frosty garden it is deciduous, dying back to the ground in winter before shooting from a permanent root in October. If you live in one of the more subtropical parts of the Downs, I’d be inclined to put this plant into the class above – slightly rampant. Keep an eye on it.

More genteel again, and a darling of landscape designers, is Chinese star jasmine or Trachelospermum jasminoides (if you can pronounce that name on your first try, congratulations). It’s not a true jasmine, but is so named because of its flowers. These are born profusely in summer and have a delicious sweet scent. I also like the plant for the rich autumn tones it carries over winter, and not least for the fact that even after it gets going, it won’t take over the whole backyard. A related species Trachelospermum asiaticum is an equally good plant, though a smaller and slower grower. Both will do well in a soil high in organic matter, will happily grow in shade, and are reasonably drought tolerant once established.

Even more genteel, in fact downright shy by all reputations is one of the world’s best loved climbing plants, the hybrid clematis. I haven’t yet grown it personally, but according to those who have there are a couple of important rules of thumb to bear in mind for successful cultivation.

One is that clematis demand a position with a cool root run, but they like plenty of sun to promote flowering. An easy way to achieve this is by covering the soil adjacent to the plant with a flat rock, or by using plenty of mulch. It’s also a good idea to choose a spot that gets some afternoon shade. Rule two is that clematis love a rich soil, so add lots of rotted manure or compost prior to planting and top dress every spring. Rule three is that clematis are not drought tolerant. They like an evenly moist soil. If you successfully grow roses in your garden, you should be able to grow clematis, and considering the sheer beauty of their flowers, they would be worth all the time and patience you can afford.

First published in The Chronicle 21st November 2009. Photo by James Jordan via flickr.com

{ 0 comments }

Choose Life

by Justin Russell on November 19, 2009

Are you’re a sprayer, or a stayer? Do you instantly reach for a trigger pack at the first sign of pests, or do you take a patient, wait and see approach? Is your garden shed full of bottles labelled with caution signs, or does it contain substances you might purchase in the cleaning and cooking aisles of the supermarket? I’m not trying to create an unnecessary division but it think it’s instructive to consider what pest management actually means.

To me, the concept of garden health is similar in practice to the use of antibiotics and probiotics. The word antibiotic means “against life”. When a patient develops a bacterial infection, antibiotics may be administered to kill or inhibit the growth of bacteria, restoring health. The argument in favour of probiotics is that they are “pro life”, and when used in adequate amounts promote good health and help prevent illness.

The same general principles are true in the practice of gardening. Spraying an insecticide, herbicide or fungicide, whether organic or not, is literally “anti-biotic” in effect because living organisms are killed or inhibited by the action. For this reason, there are gardeners that suggest spraying is never warranted. My views tend to be more pragmatic. Because I’m growing food, I’d argue that the use of a fungicide or insecticide is sometimes warranted in order to produce a decent yield. In such a situation my first thought is always to use an organic spray that will do the job while causing the least amount of harm.

I should clarify what I mean by organic. The word itself has become a weasel word in our cultural landscape, much like the term “climate change”, or even the term “pro life”. All have lost their meaning and potency because they are vague. They are open to false impressions and misleading claims. This is unfortunate in the case of organics, because the term derives from the word organism, which suggests a living, organised system. When Lord Northbourne invented the term “organic farming” in 1940, he described a holistic, balanced approach to agriculture that avoided the use of chemicals and viewed the farm as a living system.

So when I use the term organic spray I refer to any non-synthetic formulation that is an allowable input under the Australian Organic Standard. Sometimes I make these sprays up at home from simple ingredients, and on other occasions I’ll buy a ready made product that carries official organic certification, as indicated on the label. If you’re unsure as to what is and isn’t allowed under the Organic Standard, I’d suggest downloading the most recent copy from the website www.australianorganic.com.au for your reference.

Products aside, the main point I want make about organic gardening is this: as gardeners, we’ve been taught to reach for a spray at the first sign of trouble. The chemical companies love such automatic behaviour because leads to whopping great profits. But as far as I’m concerned, we owe the big chemical companies nothing. In fact, considering the human and environmental damage that’s been caused by the toxic products of such companies, they probably owe us. It’s time we made positive, life affirming choices.

Genuine organic gardening is pro-biotic in its application. It’s positive and preventative. It takes a long term view and sees the garden as a living system, an organised collective. In practice, this means that the building of well structured, humus rich soil full of thriving micro-organisms will head the organic gardener’s list of priorities. Healthy soil is the key to a healthy garden. It also means that the organic gardener will seek to create an ecosystem that contains a broad diversity of plants and animals. Biodiversity remains the best means of controlling horticultural pests and diseases, because it creates a sense of balance and order.

The next time you notice a pest or disease outbreak in the garden, think twice before you act. Consider the garden as an organism. Think about the ramifications of different actions. If it’s appropriate to spray, use the gentlest spray available for the task at hand and realise that you’re probably spraying because an ecological balance has been thrown out of whack. If spraying isn’t necessary, don’t do it. Do something pro-biotic instead. Make some compost, build a frog pond, add some plants to attract bees. Choose life, in all its complexity and diversity, and you won’t go far wrong.

First published in The Chronicle 14th November 2009. Photo by Justin Russell.

{ 0 comments }

The Bird Attracting Garden

by Justin Russell on November 14, 2009

A garden without wildlife is a garden without soul. I’m pretty sure this is a quote by someone famous, and though I can’t track down the author, it’s a mantra that I’ve been really keen on since I started gardening enthusiastically a decade ago. These days, I find it hard to imagine a garden without scurrying lizards and twittering birds. I’m not engaging in hyperbole to suggest that I’d be inclined to give up gardening altogether if I wasn’t able to share my patch of dirt with some friends in the animal kingdom. So long as they’re not pests.

In our previous Toowoomba garden there were feral birds galore. Indian Mynas were the main pest. These birds are highly intelligent, extremely territorial, and have the dubious distinction of being named one of the world’s top 100 invasive species and the Most Hated Pest in Australia. They are known as the flying cane toad, and in surveys are more loathed than foxes and feral cats.

Thank goodness there’s none here at Thistlebrook. In fact, since moving here three and half years ago, the one and only feral bird we’ve spotted on a single occasion was a pheasant. This bio-secure status hasn’t come about through any particular effort on our part – for some reason I’m yet to put my finger on the ferals just aren’t here.

What is here is a growing list of native bird species. There’s a colony of blue wrens that produce a new generation each spring, a family of willy wagtails, native swallows, finches, tawny frogmouths, various parrots and plenty of honeyeaters. My favourites of the lot are the wrens. But the avian highlight of our time here was watching a soaring wedgetail eagle spot a rabbit in the neighbour’s paddock, then bomb dive from the thermals with all the daring of a kamikaze pilot. It was a thrilling sight that resulted one less bunny to ringbark my young fruit trees. Thanks Mr Wedgie.

Providing habitat for birds is basically the same as providing habitat for people. Like us, they have three main requirements: water, food, and shelter. Provide these in the garden, and it’s a case of “build it and they will come – birds will inevitably take up residence because they find the conditions habitable.

A water source can be as simple as a glazed terracotta saucer, topped up every day or two, or it can be as elaborate as a specially designed wildlife pond. Just make sure it’s permanent. I live opposite a creek, and though it’s mostly dry at the moment, the occasional pool provides year round water.

Food sources are a bit trickier, because different species have different needs. Wrens and wagtails are flycatchers who feed on small insects. That’s welcome, and easy enough to accommodate by avoiding the use of chemical insecticides. Let the birds do the work for you. Honeyeaters and other nectar feeders go for flowering plants like grevilleas and bottlebrushes. Finches prefer grass heads and seeds. The moral of the story is that if you want to attract a diverse range of birds, you’ll need to supply a diverse range of food plants.

Shelter is also easy enough to create, as long as you’re prepared to lighten up. In my view, very formal gardens such as those with a limited plant palette and a very tidy appearance aren’t overly friendly to anything but the garden owner. If you want to attract birds, it’s important to recognise the value in leaving some parts of the garden unkempt, for these are the areas that birds seem most attracted to. Consider planting a small meadow or woodland corner, and don’t clip everything to within an inch of its life. Give nature its head, at least to some extent.

In terms of plants, small birds such as wrens and finches like building their nests in dense, prickly shrubs because these give them protection from predators. The wrens in my garden nest in an old may bush, but I’ve also seen them in a Viburnum tinus and one year there was a nest in a small rose bush. Perhaps the best bird attracting shrubs of all are the grevilleas, especially the pricklier types like ‘Canberra Gem’ and ‘Robyn Gordon’. Parrots generally prefer to nest in hollows, while swallows for example make mud nests under the eaves of sheds. Create a range of shelters and nesting sites, and you’ll get to enjoy a diverse range of birdlife.

First published in The Chronicle 7th November 2009. Photo by Julian Robinson via flickr.com

{ 0 comments }

Compost: Resurrection in the Backyard

by Justin Russell on November 5, 2009

“Soil thou art, and unto soil shall thou return.”

Genesis 3:19

Last weekend, I uncovered a finished compost heap. What began life as a fairly haphazard pile of leaves, manure and vegetable matter at least a cubic metre in volume became, with little help or effort on my part, two generous barrow loads of beautiful looking compost, the stuff that hard core gardeners call “black gold”. Feeling very chuffed, I couldn’t resist holding a handful up to my nose for a whiff. Just as I hoped, it smelt sweet and earthy.

To those who wander the corridors of power, composting is seen in a purely utilitarian light – it’s a means of reducing pressure on the municipal waste management system. Talk about selling something short. In my view of the world, compost making is akin to a sacrament. When I take a bunch of dead vegetation and animal dung and form it into a pile, when I allow it to ferment over the course of many months and eventually dig up barrow loads of living humus, there’s certainty in my mind that I’ve witnessed an everyday, backyard miracle.

The lesson at the heart of a compost heap is that life is made from death. “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” is the line recited from the Book of Common Prayer in traditional funeral services. To emphasise the point, the minister will grab a handful of dirt and ceremonially throw it onto the coffin. Mourners will often follow suit, yet most people seem to miss the tag line: “in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.”

All of this relates to the Old Testament story of Adam and Eve. Adam, whose Hebrew name derives from “earth”, was formed by God from the soil and placed in the Garden of Eden. Eve, whose name means “life” in Hebrew, was formed from Adam. Together, they were charged by God to dress and keep the earth yet you’ll recall that Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge, and were thereafter banished from the Garden to a life of toil and decay. Christians believe that restoration eventually came in the shape of a resurrected Christ. Little wonder that garden writer Margaret Simons refers to a good compost heap as “a very literal and practical kind of resurrection.”

Practical Composting

Known as Mr Compost, Peter Rutherford is an ecologist who coined the acronym A.D.A.M. to describe the key principles of composting. Besides being an obvious reference to the first man and the Hebrew derivation of his name, Rutherford’s ADAM principles are an excellent reminder of both the art, and science, of good compost making.

Aliveness

For a compost heap to work well, it needs care and maintenance just like a pet dog or cat. A healthy heap will contain fungi, worms and insects, all of which play a role in composting, but bacteria is the major prime mover in converting organic matter into humus. A good compost heap is bursting with microbial life.

Diversity

When making a compost heap, aim to include a diverse range of materials based on the general principle that anything once living will decompose. For best results, try to achieve a balance between green, nitrogen rich materials (grass clippings, manure, vegie scraps) and brown, carbon rich materials (dried leaves, straw, shredded paper). Avoid meat scraps, as these attract vermin.

Aeration

By letting oxygen into the heap you’ll stop it from smelling rotten and will create the ideal habitat for micro-organisms to do their work. The easiest way to aerate your heap is to turn it, and by doing so every couple of weeks, you’ll hopefully have finished compost within a couple of months. Alternatively, make “chimneys” in the heap with slotted ag pipe or using a special composting corkscrew.

Moisture

All living things require moisture to survive. In a compost heap, moisture assists in breaking down organic matter and helps keep composting organisms alive. When making your heap, wet it down as you go, and check to ensure it’s still moist during periods of dry weather. The material should be about as damp as a well wrung sponge. Be aware that too much moisture is as bad as too little because it creates anaerobic conditions. I cover my heaps with an old tarp or piece of weed mat to stop them getting too wet.

First published in The Chronicle 31st October 2009. Photo by Andrew Dunn via wikimedia commons.

{ 0 comments }

← Previous Entries

Next Entries →