There's Loving Plants, and There's Loving Plants...

We all know that it's OK to talk to your plants. Prince Charles does it, and he's all right (apart from his taste in women). It's OK to fuss over plants, think about them, and generally behave like they are your children. But how many people sing a song to their favourite plant?

Only in opera...

Only Handel's opera-comedy-of-manners Serse.

Translation below. Enjoy Andreas Scholl's wonderful voice, especially that first note.



Recitative.
Tender and beautiful fronds
of my beloved plane tree,
Let Fate smile upon you.
May thunder, lightning, and storms
never bother your dear peace,
Nor may you be profaned by blowing winds.

Aria.
Never was made
the shade of a plant,
dear and loving,
or more gentle.

Awakening of Less Cheerful Feelings on Arrival Home

Such pretty flowers. They start as cerise buds, turn to purple flowers and fade to blue.


The problem is that it's Paterson's Curse, one of the worst pasture weeds west of the ranges! So what on earth is it doing in my back yard? My guess is that it came with the chook feed.

The native blue-banded bee likes the flowers, as did another smaller bee that moved too fast for me to photograph. Beekeepers refer to the plant as Salvation Jane, since it provides forage for bees during drought and produces a delicious honey.


This plant was only 30cm high (they grow to about 120cm), but the tap root was already 1cm thick when the Geek pulled it out on Saturday. We hope it will not resprout. I've never seen Paterson's Curse in Sydney -- it's an echium, and prefers a Mediterranean climate. There is a distant view of Paterson's Curse in a previous post.

I hadn't found a reason to cook this lovely beetroot before we left, but just had to pull it on the weekend as it was getting a bit too big. That's a four-cup teapot behind for scale. Still haven't worked out what to do with the beetroot!

Awakening of Cheerful Feelings Upon Arrival in the Country

We spent last weekend at a family reunion in the small NSW town of Carcoar. If you are fond of hills dotted with sheep and cattle, and you like National Trust listed places, you will love Carcoar; I certainly did.


When my husband's distant relative moved to Carcoar, it was the second-largest town west of the Blue Mountains, second to Bathurst. Its other claim to fame is that it was the first place in Australia where the daylight robbery of a bank* took place, perpetrated by none other than Bold Ben Hall.

Of course, because we are all nerds, we were very keen to see the Blayney wind farm. There is a viewing platform near Carcoar Dam, but it faces east, so morning photographs are a bit difficult.


The towers are about 50m tall and each sail about half that. I found the fifteen windmills simultaneously imposing and beautiful. There is a much more picturesque view of them from Carcoar Railway Station, and from Carcoar Cemetery.


Remains of a farm building built by my husband's distant relative.


Another scene from the family farm, typical of well-maintained grazing land in this area with remnant eucalypts for shade. This farmer, as with most, has been reafforesting his property. I explained to the Twig that in my youth, one never saw young trees on farmland -- only remnant specimen trees, probably left from when the land was cleared a hundred years back. These days, it's common to see belts of young trees along fence lines, thanks to Landcare. Grazing animals and crops do better when sheltered from hot summer winds and freezing gales, and our delicate soil needs protection from erosion, water loss and salinity. The earthwork on the right is a dam. Despite the green grass, this area is in drought. I'm glad to say some rain fell while we were in the area.


Before I get into trouble, I'd better explain that the Twig is on a path through this wheatfield! After his tour of the family farm, viewing various historical relics, the Twig complained of fatigue on his way up the hill to the homestead. Then he met some boys playing cricket, and we didn't see him for three hours...

Note for Sydney travellers: the waratahs are out along the Darling Causeway. If you are up in the Blue Mountains, go and have a look!

* Daylight robbery by a bank, on the other hand, is so common as to be unremarkable.

How to Get Rid of Cabbage White Caterpillars

Gavin posted today at Simple Green Frugal Co-op on his adventures in dealing with Cabbage White caterpillars in his garden. I thought I'd put together all I know about the Cabbage White and what has worked for me.

Know Your Enemy

The Cabbage White butterfly, Pieris rapae, seems to be one of the commonest garden pests worldwide. The caterpillars feed on crucifers/brassicas, and have a particular liking for cabbage and broccoli. The caterpillars hatch from single eggs on the underside of a leaf, and stay on the underside until they become large, when they move to the top. They work their way from outer plant leaves to inner ones. Early signs of their presence are pinholes on outer leaves, which quickly become larger until leaves are skeletonised. Green frass (chunky caterpillar poo!) is sometimes visible. Once the caterpillars are in the cabbage heart or into the broccoli head, they cannot be eradicated without chemical use.

In Sydney, the butterflies are more common in the warmer months, and you can expect to see caterpillar damage once daytime maximums move past about 20 C (that is, more than half the year!). The lifespan of the insect is about a month, with the last generation over-wintering in cocoons. The butterflies find each other -- and egg-laying sites -- by sight.


Eradication

Forget it. Unless your country is killing Cabbage Whites as part of a Four Pests Campaign.


Prevention

A lot of people overlook prevention, but insect plagues don't just happen. They occur when there is a confluence of favourable conditions. Here are some ways to make the lives of Cabbage Whites more difficult:

• Encourage insectivorous birds. These tend to be smaller birds, so provide dense (even prickly) bushes for habitat, and compost your cat. Provide a bird-bath. If you have chooks, consider tractoring them in your vegie patch so that they can eat any caterpillars they find.
• Encourage predatory insects. Stop spraying general insecticides in your garden, and don't kill wasps unless you really have to (when they have inconveniently-located nests). Wasps feed the caterpillars to their young. If your brassicas support braconid wasp pupae, don't pull the plants out till the wasps hatch. Remember the bird-bath -- most predatory insects need water to drink.
• Hide the cabbages. Interplant them with other vegetables. Patches and lines of identical plants are too easy for passing butterflies to see.
• Look populated. Scatter white half-eggshells around your brassicas. Apparently, the butterflies perceive these as other butterflies, and head off to lay their eggs in a less populated area. The calcium from the eggshells is good for your garden.
• Get real. If you insist on growing brassicas in warmer weather, you will get caterpillars on them. Not only are the butterflies multiplying, the brassicas themselves are not as healthy as they are in cooler weather, and therefore attract more pests. As evidence, I give you the photo below of one of my winter-grown broccoli, which is entirely unmarked.
  

But I Want to Kill Them!

Go out in the early morning and you will find the caterpillars sitting on top of the leaves, usually near the ribs. Pick them off and feed them to your chooks, or throw them onto the lawn for the magpies as Gavin does.


That's Yucky! I Want a Nice Civilised Pesticide!

Probably the most appropriate pesticide to use is Bacillus thuringiensis, sold as B.t. or Dipel. These bacteria attack caterpillars only, nothing else, and Dipel is therefore permitted in most organic certification systems. According to the MSDS, it's about as safe as you can get with a pesticide. Now go away and get over yourself.

How to Move a Chook Dome

It was time to move the chook dome today. Here's a step-by step guide:

1. Check new site and remove anything you want to keep or eat yourself.
2. Remove feed and water containers.
3. Remove eggs.
4. Remove laying box (ie, old mower-catcher). It's a good time to clean it well and dry it in the sun.
5. Step inside dome.
6. Take perch out of its loops and leave on ground.
7. Grab two opposing ribs and lift the dome about 15cm off the ground. This is low enough to keep the chooks in but high enough to clear small obstacles. Make use of any handy children to shoo the chooks in the right direction.
8. Move dome to the new location (ideally, right next to the previous one -- no need to exhaust yourself!). Lift the side if necessary to clear any large obstacles.
9. Place dome on new site and step out.
10. Check that there are no hollows where a chook might escape under the dome. Bricks are useful to cover any gaps.
11. Replace feed and water containers, perch, nesting box.

Gosh, that was a tiring ten minutes, wasn't it?


Actually, my move took a bit longer than that, because I spent extra time at step 1. Here's the harvest from the new site right before moving the chooks in:

650g beetroot (one large, the rest small)
550g parsnips
handful dill
2 small heads celery
1 head silver beet

I was astonished by the number of snails I found, but the girls were pretty pleased. The rest of the bed is mainly warrigal greens and flowering chervil.

Last week's Good Living had a recipe (not online) that is actually useful right now: a salad of grilled goat's cheese-on-toast, roast beetroot, hazelnuts and broad beans. My garden has supplied me with the fresh young broad beans as well as the beetroot, so I made it for dinner. Rather fiddly for a weeknight, and not exactly frugal, but it tasted great.

Review: Sylvan Grove Native Garden

Yesterday we took our boys for a picnic and "bushwalk" at Sylvan Grove Native Garden in Picnic Point. This pocket native garden slopes down towards the Georges River and is a lovely spot to wander in for a few hours. I heard that it was open through the newsletter of the Australian Plants Society: the hours vary through the year, so check the website before you set off.

The first plant I saw was this lovely white waratah. Orchids were blooming everywhere, though the gardener on duty told me we had missed the peak season. I suppose we did miss the showy Sydney Rock Orchid, but there were smaller pink, white and cream orchids in profusion, mostly Dendrobium kingianum. There was also a species of Greenhood. The Prostanthera family were certainly making their presence felt in all the dryer patches. It is a pity that I can't stand the smell of the foliage as the white, pink or mauve blooms are so showy (see the bottom picture).

The garden, as I mentioned, is on sloping Sydney sandstone country. Most of the plants are native to this area, and 'foreigners' are given sunnier or shadier spots depending on temperament. The path wends back and forth across the slope, making the garden feel considerably larger than 1.5ha (3.7 acres). Traditional bush gardens in Australia tend to take a 'stroll garden' style, and this spacious feeling is one of the advantages. Many plants are named. Species of particular interest (rare and endemic species, bush-tucker plants) are numbered so that you can refer to details in the little guide-book.

The boys enjoyed zooming along the path to the next number; they have not developed an interest in plants yet (come to think of it, I hadn't either, at their age). In fact, the Twig lectured me at the start: "Now Mummy, we aren't here to study every plant in detail. The purpose of this bushwalk is to get exercise!" Well, they exercised and I wandered!


There is a cool, shady rainforest gully with lots of different types of ferns -- including one I hadn't seen before. The Geek commented that it looked as if it had been made in China; the leaflets had a peculiar flatness to them, as if stamped from a sheet of green plastic! The boys also had the chance to feel a sandpaper fig. The rough leaves were used by Aboriginal people to smooth spears and the like.















I was also impressed with the enormous flowers on this Geraldton Wax -- they're about 3cm across! Not sure if it's a cultivar or just really well-cared-for.

















The endemic Boronia mollis, with its musk-stick-pink flowers, shows up clearly in sandstone country in spring.















I was very impressed to see a big Chorizema cordatum (Heart-leaf Flame-pea) in dry but heavy shade near the top of the slope. This small open shrub is a native of the very different climate and soil of WA. I'm afraid I haven't done very well with the colours -- the flowers are much more shockingly orange and pink than you see here. And as they prefer shade, the colours are quite eye-popping!

This garden is an excellent place to get a good look at both sandstone flora and Western Sydney species in an afternoon, as well as a few others. The majority of plants are clearly marked and the garden is lovingly maintained, though I felt some shrubs could do with pruning to improve the shape. There are a few parking spaces at the entrance, or you can park in the street. There are toilets at the top of the block and a selection of useful gardening leaflets is available there, along with a visitor's-book. While there are seats scattered through the gardens, it's a place to take your sandwiches rather than the full picnic spread as there isn't much open space -- certainly no lawns or barbecues. There is no kiosk. The garden is quite shady, due to good tree cover and its easterly aspect. The duty gardener told me that the shade is a little too heavy for really good flowers on some species, but it is therefore more comfortable in the summer months. While the garden has no steps, a person with mobility problems would still find some undulating parts difficult to negotiate. The Sprig managed to take a tumble on a sloping path, and now has a grazed nose -- but that's what four-year-olds do. If your children are a bit young to go on proper bushwalks, this garden will satisfy them for the afternoon. It is a pity Sylvan Grove Native Garden is not better known. Highly recommended.

Red Sky at Morning...

We had a welcome thunderstorm yesterday which dumped about 15mm on us, and I went to sleep with wet earth scenting my gardening dreams. At 4am the stench of dust woke me, and there was a weird foggy look to the still-dark sky. At 6am it looked like this:


The westerly wind was cold -- usually it's a hot wind that we associate with bushfires. It was typically strong, though -- we were getting 60 km/h gusts while I took the photos, and 80 km/h later in the morning.

This dust is from northern South Australia, most likely the Lake Eyre Basin. It has travelled 1400km to us and is now on its way to Brisbane and New Zealand. In Sydney, the airborne particulates reached such dangerous levels that school children were kept inside all day. The Twig missed out on his school swimming lesson and on both outdoor breaks today*, but was kept happy indoors with domino runs, his latest craze. People with lung diseases were advised to stay indoors unless they needed medical assistance as a result of the dust-storm!

This dust-storm is unique. The last bad dust-storm in Sydney was in 1944, but it was not on the scale of today's. Moreover, our cultivation techniques have improved since then with the move to zero-tillage agriculture, and dust-storms in general have been declining. Today's dust-storm was caused by the present unusually long, unusually hot drought... which will become less unusual in the future, we fear.



* Children in Sydney schools usually have two breaks for eating and playing outdoors. At our school, one is of 35 and one is of 40 minutes.