Spring

Coastal garden

by

Port Macquarie has many large and handsome native fig trees, which I think are Port Jackson or Rusty figs (Ficus rubiginosa). 

Currently they are laden with fruit, which will turn red when they ripen. Whilst edible by humans, they are not deemed very palatable, but are eaten by flying foxes and many native birds.

In flower right now on this coastal walking strip is another tree, with such pretty pink flowers and deeper pink buds that I wondered if it was indeed native. There are several of them, but growing near such a populous area I could suspect garden-escapees… 

I was surprised at the size of the tree on which it blooms, and then spotted an even larger tree covered in the same flowers. 

But I was right to be suspicious: this is actually Norfolk Island Hibiscus (Lagunaria patersonia), a native of Lord Howe and Norfolk Islands.

It is also called Itchy Bomb tree, as it can irritate airways and skin, and has proven an invasive weed in mangrove forests. It certainly does well here, and by the size of these trees, has done so for a long time.

The native Swamp or Spider Lilies (Crinum pedunculata) are showy enough to also be garden plants, but they do belong here.

And this native one I know is often used in landscaping: the Blue Flax Lily (Dianella revolutum), here showing its purply-blue berries that follow the bright blue flowers.

All this late Spring lavishness within minutes walking from busy streets… amazing!

And on the other side, the sea. How lucky am I?

Spring wade

by

I had been wanting to try the Queens Lake Fire Trail, but as it is near North Haven, it’s a fair way off. 

However, this day, heading that way, I thought I might have time to finally take that walk.

Luckily I brought the gumboots, as most of this walk was a wade.

With the amber water against the white sand, it was attractive, but slow going as the water got deeper. I was never sure that my gumboots would be taller than the water as I stepped in.

I kept wading for some time, thinking that the trail must lead me to Queens Lake. Maybe it does, eventually, but wading is wearying, and after about 45 minutes, I turned back.

Not that the wade was wasted, as Spring has sprung here, with a dainty but prolific native show, and not of wattles, as I’d expected.

There were masses of pink boronias, and a few trigger plants for a start.

Many others, mainly white and yellow, waved from the dry background.

There were lots of banksia trees, and some, like this one, were so thick of trunk and gnarled of bark that I think it has seen many a wet and dry season here. 

I can’t imagine this fire trail will be dry soon… and I hope it isn’t needed.

Mooraback Spring

by

The Mooraback campground in Werrikimbe National Park is surrounded by blossom-laden Tea Trees (Leptospermum polygalifolium) at present.

They make as pretty a show as any introduced plant like May Bush (Spirea).

On the shortest walk near the camp, the mown grass track leads past many other white flowering bushes, which I was calling Rice Flowers, but which the experts tell me is Ozothamnus diosmilfolius.

Some were as tall as small trees.

Edging the path in some places, like guards of honour, were multitudes of these pink Grass Trigger-plants (Stylidium graminifolium).

The path led me through mysterious groves of low and spreading trees like these…

…to come out on to such grandeur as here, with a view across the damp Tree Fern gully to Messmate (E. obliqua, Snow Gum (E. pauciflora), Wattle-leaved Peppermint (E. acaciformis) and Manna Gums (E.nobilis).

A large Manna Gum rose in front of me, estimated to be about 150 years old.

This was a delightfully varied and easy stroll, looping back to the equally delightful grassy campground.

Mooraback is a long drive off the Oxley Highway, but worth it!

Spring colour

by

On the rising slopes above the campground, many surprising spring shows were tucked amongst the rocks. Some, like these White Everlastings or Paper Daisies (Coronidium elatum), only appeared in a few places.

Overall, white, yellow and purple seemed to be the chosen colour palette.

The swamp below the rocks was dotted with hundreds of these shrubs, their delicate creamy blossoms looking like garden escapees, too pretty to be growing wild. But they are Small-fruited Hakea (Hakea microcarpa), which like sub-alpine swamps.

Much less common, to the extent that this was the only one I saw, was another white flowering plant, Coral Heath (Epacris microphylla), with its unusual stems, clasped by dozens of tiny leaves.

I had noticed these shy lilac buds the day before, but next day they were blooming and blue; Thelymitra ixioides, a single-stalked ground orchid that likes to open on warm sunny days.

I saw very few other orchids, such as these Donkeys’ Ears ones, but they had no chance in the major claims to yellow.

The slopes were carpeted with shrubs of the sort we always called ‘Eggs-and-bacon’ as kids, pea flower families, of which there are hundreds of types. There were three discernible sorts here, some prickly, some not and some with more red in their centres (more tomato sauce, as we’d say).

Some were threaded through with purple Hardenbergia.

With all these flowers to see, it was hard to watch my feet on the rocky tracks, let alone look up to the stunning rocks. But I did stop to look up, so rocks and giant boulders will be my next post. So, so much to see!

Stony surprises

by

On a very stony headland the profusion of spring flowers is surprising. Flannel flowers en masse of course, as everywhere here on the mid north coast right now, but many others too.

These mini flannel flowers manage to survive, if not exactly thrive, on almost nothing but stones.

On Diamond Head, the sight of a single flowering Xanthorrhoea was heartening, rising tall and proud amongst the still very evident carnage from the bushfires that had raged through here.

Less dramatic were the dainty five-petalled purple blooms of Scaevola ramosissima, looking as fragile as ground orchids.

A double treat presented where the purple Dampiera was growing amongst the woolly pink-budded Xanthosia pilosa.

There were only a few of these straggly shrubs of Kunzea capitata with their fluffy pink blooms.

One I did recognise was this clump of cheery yellow paper daisies or everlastings. They at least seemed tough enough to cope with the stony seaside ground in which they were growing.

Spring stunners

by

My second masked venture into sunshine and Spring, this time at coastal Kattang Nature Reserve. And look at this surprise!

Never seen before, and the only one visible to me on the walk.  It did look a bit like a grass tree or Xanthorrhoea, but the flower spike was too fluffy and there was no trunk. There are none of the common Xanthorrhoeas in the reserve, or none that I have seen.

But I am told by the always amazing Facebook group for NSW Plant Identification that this is Xanthorrhoea macronema, or bottlebrush grass plant, and the trunk is below the ground.

What a special solo Spring surprise!

Also new to me was this shrub, where the yellow flowers cluster at the ends of the branches, many with a green cone above their modestly folded golden skirts. The Facebook boffins tell me it’s Phyllota phylicoides, or Common Phyllota. Only it’s not common here, and amongst the thousands of other different yellow-pea-flowering bushes here, its other common name of Yellow Peabush has me laughing aloud.

Another less common shrub here, with most un-pea-like flowers, was partly familiar, as I could see it was an Isopogon, but which one? Could be anemonilfolius or petiolaris, the experts say. With so little information, I am always surprised any identification is possible.

Of course there were many other flowers out, as well as the masses of yellow pea shrubs like Dillwynias, but it seemed that whatever other shy flowers apeared, a pink boronia was nearby.

Their vivid deep pinks were in such profusion amongst all the greys of fallen timber and dead bracken that it was almost an embarrassment of boronias. Such beauty, freely offered…

Several clumps of our dainty Native Iris or Flag, a Patersonia, seemed to be preferring the sunnier open track edges, serenely showing their yellow centres from each three-petalled purple bloom.

And a boronia not far away…

Glory days

by

Having finally got out in the bush to catch up on Spring (nose duly covered by a mask), I have been treated to a glorious shower of yellow flowering shrubs, from lemon to orange-tinged.

This pale beauty is aptly named the Golden Glory Pea, or Gompholobium latifolia.

It grows on the prettiest arching shrub, very different from the stiffer majority.

And now that the wattles are done, the job of carrying the gold throughout this coastal bushland is being borne by a variety of pea-flowering shrubs, too many for me to suss out, like Dilwynias.

In lesser numbers, the Hop Bushes or Dodoneas are flaunting their bunches of soft green flowers.

But the winner for dominance is a shrub or small tree called Satinwood (Nematolepis squamea), whose starry white flowers formally stud its branches throughout the bush, at all different heights.

Spring hits

by

Confined as I am to my place, unable to see what is flowering in the bush, it is a great treat to have Spring come to me.

Some of these plants are having their first Spring as residents, so I am glad to see them not only survive their potted lives, but burst into bloom!

This is a native, Philoteca myoporoides, flowering above the Bacopa ground cover.

Planted at the same time last year, this Ruby Belle variant on the native climber, Pandorea pandorana, quickly climbed right up the lattice to the top floor and has proved really too vigorous for comfortable control, but it is pretty foliage anyway, so I won’t be pulling it out. These are the first flowers I have had on it.

In the back garden strip, inherited pots of orchids were put to shelter under a tree fern. Their current starry flowers are a surprise gift!

Not a flower, but green at least, and a symbol of why I am not out bushwalking. My personal mask has been my daily companion/jailor during my month’s radiation treatment, and I now have it at home.

I am told some people grow strawberries in theirs! But I will keep it as a sculptural memento of the time: of fighting down panic as it is placed over your face and clamped down firmly to the table beneath you.

I know it is so the radiation is targeting precisely the right spots on my nose/face each time, and I appreciate that.

But as your nostrils are plugged with wet cotton wool, you must breathe through your mouth. And stay calm…

The team at Port Macquarie Cancer Unit are great and do their very best to help, but it is a fact that radiation burns the good cells as well as the cancerous ones, so my burnt face must now undergo about 10 days of escalating side effects before it can begin to heal.

I only hope it has done the intended job, as that cannot be determined.

But the lesson I learnt there was that, as my Dad used to say, ‘There are always others worse off then you, Sha!’.

Blossom bounty

by

A recent walk in Kattang Nature Reserve to check on the arrival of ‘Spring’ brought some surprises.

Like this common vine, Smilax australis, which I had never seen in flower.With true Aussie cynicism, it is often called ‘Lawyer vine’, due to its prickles… ‘once they get their hooks into you’…etc.

I am told that the photo also includes the smaller-leaved vine with black berries that is Smilax glyciphylla, the non-prickly relative.

This climber caught my eye but it seemed out of place and not quite right to be the Sturt’s Desert Pea that immediately came to mind. That’s because it’s not: it is Dusky Coral Pea, Kennedia rubicunda, say the wonderfully generous and informed people of the NSW Native Plant Identification FB group. They are very tolerant of the uninformed like me; I am learning a lot.

So a second surprise!

A much more familiar plant was this blooming Twining Guinea Flower, Hibbertia scandens, known as Snake vine at my Mountain, because when the clumps were ground trailing rather than climbing they often hid black snakes. I love the simple sunniness of these flowers. Large native buttercups!

The pink boronia flowers have been coming out for a while, but now bearing more blooms than buds.

Equally pretty, and about as scattered, were the sprawling patches of starry Wedding Bush, Ricinocarpos pinifolia.

No surprise, but exceedingly welcome, were the dominant many bushes/small trees of wattle. I have assumed this is Sydney Wattle, Acacia longifolia, but hope someone will tell me if not. Locals always know better than I do…

Coast walk surprises

by

The Coast Walk from North Haven near Laurieton to Grants Head near Bonny Hills can be done in sections, quite varied, and not always well signposted.

It was only because we got a bit lost that we found this wonderful avenue of flannel flowers through low banksia forest. It was an unmarked sandy sideways trail that did reconnect with the Coast Walk and its much taller forest.

There were few other plants in bloom at this late stage of Spring, so those that were, like this melaleuca(?) or callistemon (?) were even more appreciated.

The track leads one to the beach before Grants Head, where this seemingly man-made rock mirrored its slope in reverse.

To avoid retracing our beach steps — plus the tide was coming in — we walked up through a low heath.

Here candles of creamy blossoms were out in profusion amongst windswept low banksias.

My new plant guru Robyn tells me this bountiful and hardy plant is Hakea teretifolia.

The walk winds back down to take you back past peaceful paperbark swamps, now mostly dry but with healthy reed carpets.

This coastal area is a paperbark paradise… !

Known bush blooms

by

There are few wildflowers I can identify in Kattang Nature Reserve. It is coastal bush, and I have not lived with that before.

I do recognise this Boronia, which is not the highly scented Brown Boronia.

My wildflower books were amongst those ruined in the flood; I had bought them over 45 years ago…

This lavishly blooming Pandorea pandorana, or Wonga Wonga vine, here spilling over a stump, had no need to climb.

For scent it is hard to go past this familiar Sweet Pittosporum, Pittosporum undulatum. It was native to my Mountain too.

It made me recall that on a riverside walk nearby I had seen, but not then recognised, the Yellow Pittosporum, Pittosporum revolutum.

The dainty Caladenia pink ground orchids were a welcome Spring sight. Their white or blue cousins are often seen too.

 This one I did not know, but I have asked Dr Google and it is a Native Iris or Flag, a Patersonia species.

I do miss my wildflower reference books; will seek to replace them when bookshop visits are permissible again…

Borders open

by

Hearing a new bird call, I searched the trees in my back yard. The call was familiar, yet not one I’d heard for some time.

It was a monotonous repeated call, the sort that might drive you crazy.

I located its maker, a lone Koel, unmistakable visually even if I’d momentarily forgotten which bird makes that sound: ‘koo-eel, koo-eel’ ad nauseam.

Its blue-black plumage, long shapely tail and red eyes mark it as a male Koel. And its arrival means the borders are open, as this migratory bird comes south from New Guinea from September onwards. It likes our humid coastal areas and rainforest fringes.

Part of the Cuckoo family, it shares the typical ‘parasitic’ habit of getting other birds to raise their Koel young by placing their eggs in a host’s nest.

So the Koel need not build its own nest, and has time to perch in people’s yards and announce that Spring is here and the borders are open!