My Garden ~ a Kiwi's take on life

Life is a lot like a garden


Waiting is All We Can Do at Present


Today is the calm before the storm.  At 8.30 a.m. it was a still, sunny humid morning in my garden and the best time to take a few before photos.

The oregano and thyme thrive in this summer heat. The crushed herbal leaves in my hand smell divine. All the energy soaked up from the sun to produce the wonderful aroma bursts so evocative of many Greek and Italian dishes we all love.

Oregano sprawling along a garden border.

First thing this morning, I stopped to watch a Monarch caterpillar attach itself to a Lemon Grass leaf as it prepares for its spectacular life change.

Caterpillar attaching itself at 8.30 a.m. to a Lemon Grass leaf.

It is now just after midday. We are home from having sweated in the gym. Outside in the garden, the temperature has risen and the sweat trickles down my face in this humidity. The gym was cooler than this. Mobile in hand ready to take photos, I brave the heat to have another look at the caterpillar. Four hours and we have a chrysalis. Nature has worked its magic.

Transformation about four hours later at 12.30.

Cloud is building to the west of our place. A light breeze can be felt. I do hope the caterpillars and chrysalises will survive whatever nature and the weather gods are about to unleash on us.

For now, the dahlias are blooming and upright. I am enjoying their rich colours and shapes while I can. At this moment, these flowers are doing what they do best in this heat. With their faces turned to the summer sun, they simply show off.

My fruit wars against the Pukeko continue. Earlier this year, they stripped the fruit trees of the ripening apples, peaches and plums. This week, I discovered something. They do not like quinces.  Great news for this quince lover. The tree is a prolific bearer and the branches hang heavily with ripening fruit. I am thinking of recipes for jelly and paste, my Mother-in-law’s quince shortcake, baked and stewed quince preserves, savoury quince with lamb.  Years ago at quince time, M-i-L always came to stay in March when it was time to preserve and bake the fruit. She would commandeer the kitchen to make her shortcake recipe and quince filling. It was the quintessential quince fest. A bit more time spent ripening in the sun is called for. I do hope the quinces can hang on to the branches if the stormy weather hits our area.


Tree is loaded with ripening fruit

Cyclone Gita, having wreaked havoc on Tonga, is well on its way down the Tasman Sea west of New Zealand. This is one unwelcome visitor that will not be late. Its presence, we are lead to believe, will be particularly felt in the southerly regions of the North Island and the northerly and western regions of the South Island. The Met. Service tells Kiwis to get prepared now. The Northland region might, or might not, feel the lash of Gita’s fury.  Waiting is all we can do at present.





January is the month when New Zealanders enjoy summer days. It is a time when people leave their real world lives to relax, to holiday at beaches, lakes and rivers and to enjoy outdoor activities. It is a time when we are busy in our gardens and enjoy the fruits of our labours. However, nature is having an impact on our environment.


Ripples caused by raindrops ahead of heavy rain forecast

But, I can be forgiven for taking childish delight, for now, in watching raindrops splat and ripple onto puddles. It is the promise of the rain needed to fill our watertanks and to raise the stream level back to its regular level. Rain is forecast to keep falling. Heavily. And with high winds for a couple of days. Water will fall and flow everywhere and not as we would wish it. So we are warned. It has been a very dry and unusually warm December. Did I miss spring? Is this climate change at play? Nature is leaving a trail of evidence.


Even though heavily mulched, my garden is wilting. Lettuces have bolted and gone to seed. They were tasty while they lasted. Dahlias are showing their hot colours. Yellow butter and other beans are producing well. Defiant heat loving plants remain true to label. Leaves on the liquidamber trees are displaying signs of early autumn colours.

Pukeko Under the Fruit Trees

Pukeko eat the ripening fruit and damage the branches.

Pukeko and rosellas are unrelenting in their assaults on the ripening Captain Kidd heritage apples that should ripen in March. My early Peach Haven is history. It drives me crazy to see a pukeko, apple clamped in its beak, sprint from under the fruit trees across the paddock to its stream-side habitat The birds jump into the trees and damage the branches. The stream level is very low, the soil is rock hard, the plant habitats are parched and I am sure the birds are desperate for food. Earlier this morning, a family of four fruit thieves raided the orchard undercover of a downpour. No summer holiday in my world. It is garden guerilla-warfare.


Grass is greener on the other side of the fence

We have our cattle on a sheltered hill paddock which is prone to dryness. They are grizzling because the grass quality is not as good as that on the other side of the gate. The trouble is that the better grass is in a flat paddock that is prone to flash flooding when our stream spills over. Years ago, in our early experiences of coping with bad storms, the cattle either stood in the shallows or huddled under trees. We gave up trying to move them. Wading in fast-moving, waist-high water that sweeps all manner of debris, including fences from neighbouring properties, in its path is not safe. Those animals all survived. Mindful of forecasts, we are now better prepared.  So, these cattle can stay on the hill for two days until the storm blows over.   

Meanwhile, weather forecasters continue to track the sub-tropical storm as it unleashes over New Zealand, to warn of the dangers of heavy rain, king tides, large waves and strong winds and to advise holidaymakers to evacuate.  No doubt the raindrops and the ripples will cease to be delightful as the puddles  flood and reform to flow as a small stream down my driveway.