It began with a quest: a gift for a friend who'd driven through mud, frost, and a half-closed road, as well as leaving a heartbroken dog, to take me to Canberra for one of those procedures that leave you too groggy to drive home again.
Admittedly she has to drive through all of those anyway just to get to town, and the dog - a Labrador so golden he glows - is heartbroken if abandoned for about 10 minutes, and then goes and plays with his frisbee - but the escort to Canberra was very welcome indeed.
Flowers are the obvious "thank you" choice, except I tend to visit friends with vast bunches of home-grown ones so that my host has to race around finding vases for them instead of checking on dinner. So this needed to be a florist-bought, mildly luxurious indoor plant, not a shaggy bucket full of whatever is blooming in our garden.
A quick visit to an upmarket Canberra florist showed there is a severe lack of elegant, sumptuous indoor plants that bloom in Canberra's mid-winter.
There were begonias aplenty, and peace lilies, and bright pots of cyclamen, but no one could call a begonia sumptuous, except the ones that are taller than you, which the average florist doesn't sell; and you need a large display of cyclamen to look spectacular, either in the ground or along your windowsill in pots. I suspect the Labrador would have great fun jumping all over a crocus bed with his large feet and his frisbee.
So I asked Clare from the Braidwood nursery what she might have. She offered begonias, peace lilies, crocus... but she was about to head to Sydney.
Surely plant suppliers in Sydney's warmer climate would have something stunning: maybe a giant potted poinsettia, which naturally show their fabulous red bracts in winter (the ones sold for Australian Christmases have been imported or specially chilled to bloom out of season). A banksia perhaps, or a giant basket of massed pansies? But what I was really hoping for was a large, potted cymbidium orchid.
Cymbidiums are the bread and butter of the sumptuous indoor plant world. An African violet on your desk is attractive. A cymbidium yells "I am here and I am elegant". Cymbidiums are adaptable, tough, tolerate drying out and neglect and as long as your house isn't so cold that the toothpaste freezes, they will survive winter in any well lighted indoor spot, blooming for months. After blooming, take them outside to a semi-shaded spot, remember to water every week or so, then bring them in next winter when they begin to bloom again.
It turns out it is too early for cymbidiums.
Clare did find two orchids though, an oncidium in yellow and brownish red stripes, a bit like a mutated tiger, and a phalaenopsis orchid, in plain white, though "white" doesn't do it justice.
The phalaenopsis was perfect, apart from its name which you may need to scribble on a bit of paper to remember if you're heading off to buy one. It's also known as the "moth orchid" as the flowers look vaguely like extremely ornamental moths. Phalaenopsis are wonderfully hardy, bloom for months, and only need a warmish lighted spot, though not in direct sunlight by a hot window or next to the heater. Give them a water every fortnight and they'll be happy.
Most orchids are bought as gifts, due to their long blooming and sophistication, which means the ones in garden centres have been bred to survive with almost no care. You can, however, cosset your orchid, and they will flower even more spectacularly and longer because of it.
Orchids are mostly tropical plants, so they prefer humidity. Group them with other pot plants if you can. Careful watering helps too. Orchids don't survive wet feet, so make sure water doesn't collect in the saucer at the base of the pot. If you really want to be kind to your orchid, place it, pot and all, in a bucket of water not quite to the top of the pot. Leave for 10 minutes, and let it drain in the laundry sink.
Orchids will probably bloom year after year with no tucker at all, but if you give them half-strength fertiliser once a month when their leaves are actively growing, they will grow bigger, better and faster.
Phalaenopsis orchids can actually be coaxed to bloom twice a year, though I have never dared try it in case my plant becomes severely deceased. As soon as the last flower turns brown, but if the stalk is still green, cut it just above the second or third node and hope that in a few weeks the cutting back will stimulate a dormant bud to produce a second stalk of flowers below the cut. I suspect this may work better if you've been feeding on schedule and have the orchid in just the right spot.
As for other mid-winter Canberra glories: for a truly stunning mid-winter garden you need a selection of camellia bushes planted at least 10 years ago, preferably 20 for a breathtaking display; lots of pansies, polyanthus, primulas, heartsease or Iceland poppies planted last February, or gold or purple salvias planted at least two years ago, and bright nerine blooms which double every year, so should have been planted about five years ago to look dazzling now. Thankfully we still have the remnants of the autumn leaves to cheer us up.
Our winter garden will soon become decidedly colourful, with even more camellias, hosts of hellebores that now come in red, pink, mauve, purple, yellow, white with spots or deep red splodges or crinkle-rimmed petals, double or single petalled.
There'll be bright yellow wintersweet, winter aconite popping up under the roses, winter blooming wallflowers, green spotted snowdrops, Earlicheer jonquils with their paradisical perfume, Madonna or Green Goddess lilies if you have a damp spot or remember to water them well. The daphne will be blooming, in pink-purple or sheer white, and again the world will smell delightful, as will any room where you put a few sprigs of blooms.
The slopes of Red Hill and many Canberra gardens will be covered in the deep purple flowers of hardenbergia, which also comes in white or pink, but not as impressively. There'll be brilliant wattle on the hillsides - hopefully not above your clothesline where the pollen will collect on damp washing - plus blue or purple winter-blooming iris, or a host of magnolias, which seem to love living in Canberra, or the pink spikes of old-fashioned Elephants Ears or Bergenia cordifolia, which used to be grown around many of Canberra's deciduous trees to give a show when the branches were bare.
The winter-blooming agapanthus and winter red hot pokers will probably flower, but only if they feel like it - sometimes they wait till spring. Rosemary bushes will be covered in blue blooms, proteas give long-stemmed beauties that are perfect for vases, and French lavender will open up its scented buds.
The flowering almonds and cherries become a dazzling glory and fool you into thinking spring is just round the corner, and then suddenly it will be, and Canberra will be daffodil and tulip central for months.
In other words, late winter in Canberra can be floriferous if you've planted well - or previous owners of your garden have planted for you. If you want early winter colour in your garden, you need to plan years or at least several months in advance.
But if you head out now, and hunt for hardenbergia, thryptomene, rosemary, French lavender, the largest magnolia bushes you can afford, plus a few rhododendrons and a flowering cherry or almond, your late winter will be stunning, and even more so in years to come, especially if you've planted a clump of snow gums, whose dappled bark and wind twisted shapes come into their own in the cold months.
In other words, the Canberra winter garden is like your Canberra wardrobe: if you stock up on woolies and wandering hardenbergia vines, it can be wonderful.
This week I am:
- Hopefully cutting back the dismal dead dahlias, while scattering the seeds of their now brown flowers in the hope that seedlings will colonise bare patches.
- Transplanting the hydrangeas that the over-exuberant salvias covered last summer, and hoping they will forgive me and and bloom again.
- Remembering to ask Linda if I might have some cuttings of her gorgeous bright red hydrangeas. A light winter trim of hydrangeas keeps the bushes well shaped, and hydrangea cuttings take easily if the woody stems are buried about 20cm deep in damp sand.
- Picking Valencia oranges, Tahitian limes and small mandarins, though they will be sweeter when we've had a really heavy frost.
- Enjoying the most ridiculously twisted Buddhas' Hand citrons our bush has ever produced. I am still suspicious it may be an alien trying to disguise itself as a citron, or a beast that has wandered off the set of Dr Who.
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