What Rain Gives

Tea pots and neglected cactus' huddling together

Gardening in ...The Gown...

Banjos and Trumpets in the Garden

There's not much a few hours in the backyard can't cure. Melbourne's overlooked autumn provided an atmosphere like buoyancy today; rising up and giving hours of surprise sunshine. To make the day even better, a couple of fine people came by - the kind that don't need too much tending to, much like my favourite plants, friends who appreciate a good pot of tea, and a bum joke or two. 

Digging my hands into a bag of cow poo was a bit of a thrill today, until the banjo started tippling out of the lounge room speakers.  That was it then. I was like a kid at the beach - completely lost in the joy of it all. 

After the rain last week, there were worms everywhere. The plants that flowered were colourful again. The vegies looked strong and bulbous with water in their veins. 

I ended up in the yard on my own in the evening, finishing up just as the clouds came over and the breeze picked up. The strings and trumpets in Mercury Rev's Holes did the trick they  always do. And I ended up in the middle of the garden staring up at the sky with my arms out, making small squealy noises. 
Thank you universe for today. In my garden. 

Buxom garden

Three days of continuous, easy rain and the garden has grown three inches.

The garden behaves in the rain like a 20-year old drinking juice after a hangover. Sucks it in and fills out all the empty, vitamin-deprived pores, until you realise just how thirsty and dehydrated that tired body really was.  Everything looks a little less stressed and a little more.... buxom. Yes that's it. I might go for a walk in it now. 

rainy day gardening

a few violent deaths

 This weekend we were treated to a deliciously sloshy downpour. Racing to get under cover, watching the lawn rise up an inch a minute, the plants drinking, the dogs resigning to bed in daylight hours. I've never thought of rain as a destroyer of things. I fear for the burning of little budding things in the sun, or seedlings beaten in the wind but never the rain. 
This weekend the rain destroyed a few things. The tomato seeds were drowned. The firstborns, the sunflowers, had their heads eaten off by the great rain lovers, snails. 
A little disheartened. A first failure in our garden adventures. RIP tomatoes and sunnies.