Category: Life at Earth Rhythms

Everyday life at Earth Rhythms — the projects, changes, challenges and little moments that shape life on the farm.

A Season of Possibilities

There’s more happening than meets the eye.

One of my favourite things about spring is discovering just how much can change in a relatively short period.

Every day seems to bring something new to notice.

While we’re eagerly awaiting the arrival of our first flowers, there’s already plenty happening throughout the established gardens and orchard areas at Earth Rhythms.

Flowers and fruit are beginning to appear on our Mulberry along with our potted Lemon and Lime trees, and the Grape Vines and Olive trees.

Some of these plants were already growing here when we arrived, while others accompanied us or we brought after our arrival and they have been patiently waiting in pots.

It’s wonderful to see them moving into another stage of their seasonal cycles.

Meanwhile, our newly planted herbs are only just beginning their journeys.

Tiny Skullcap and Lemon Mint seedlings are breaking through the soil, while our Celosia, Gomphrena and Yarrow are also making their first appearances.

Our Zinnias and second plantings of Sunflowers are considerably further along, and we’re eagerly anticipating the color they’ll eventually bring to our gardens.

Elsewhere, the Wisteria has been putting on its spring display, our Tea Trees have been flowering and the Dogwoods are producing their fresh foliage.

As we prepare some of our existing garden rows to become flower beds, we’re also trying to save as many of the established plants growing there as we can. Many of the Quinces, Forsythia, Tea Trees, Smokebush and Dogwoods have already weathered the drought, and it seems such a shame to lose plants that have proven just how resilient they can be.

Instead, we’re carefully digging them up and relocating them around the boundaries of the property, where they’ll help us create stronger hedgerows, provide more privacy and eventually become part of the framework surrounding our new gardens.

We’re also taking cuttings from some, including the Tea Trees, to propagate as a little insurance in case not every plant copes with being moved.

I love that creating these new flower gardens doesn’t have to mean clearing away everything that was here before. Wherever we can, we’re working with what we already have — preserving it, propagating it and simply finding it a new place to grow.

Perhaps possibility isn’t always about beginning again. Sometimes it’s about recognising the strength in what has already survived and giving it somewhere new to flourish.

And, of course, there’s plenty of activity amongst our local wildlife.

The bees have been enjoying our flowering plants, while butterflies have been particularly attracted to the beautiful pink Pigface flowers growing around the property.

It’s easy to become so focused on what we’re waiting for that we overlook everything already happening around us.

I know I’m eagerly anticipating the day our flower beds are filled with Zinnias, Cosmos, Dahlias and Sunflowers.

But when I wander around the property, camera in hand, I’m reminded that there’s already so much to appreciate.

The tiniest seedling emerging from the soil.

The promise of fruit on an established tree.

A bee visiting a flower.

The changing light across the garden.

The first storm of the season (our first since moving) brewing.

Nature reminds us that every season offers something worth noticing, even when we’re still waiting for what comes next.

And perhaps that’s one of spring’s loveliest lessons.

There’s beauty in anticipation, but there’s also beauty in everything happening right now.

A Little Reflection

What are you looking forward to at the moment?

And while you’re waiting for it to arrive, what beautiful things might already be happening around you?

Take a moment today to notice one small thing you might otherwise have overlooked.

October 3, 2026
Follow the Light

Finding beauty in both the sunshine and the shade

There’s something about spring that encourages us to pay closer attention to the light.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been noticing how the changing position of the sun and the increasing light is transforming our gardens here at Earth Rhythms.

The Californian poppies have been opening their beautiful orange flowers beneath the fresh yellow-green foliage of our dogwoods. Elsewhere, the pigface is putting on a spectacular display of pink blooms, attracting butterflies enjoying the arrival of spring.

One of the things I love about both these plants is how their flowers open to welcome the sunshine and close again as the light disappears.

Watching them recently reminded me of Xavier Rudd’s song Follow the Sun and a conversation I’d had with my business mentor about owning our light.

It got me thinking about what it means to follow our own light, embrace what brings us joy and allow ourselves to shine.

The Changing Light

One of the things I’ve particularly enjoyed since moving to the farm is observing how the sun’s journey across the sky changes throughout the seasons.

Here in the Southern Hemisphere, as we move towards summer, the days lengthen and the sun sets progressively further towards the southwest. As winter approaches, its path shifts northwards again, setting further towards the northwest.

These seasonal changes create beautiful patterns of light and shade across our property.

As the afternoon sun moves behind our house, our back deck becomes a lovely shaded place to sit. Looking out, parts of the garden are in shade, others enjoy dappled sunlight, while the back paddock beyond remains bathed in sunshine.

It’s becoming one of my favourite times of day. Sitting with an afternoon cuppa, watching the garden and appreciating the changing landscape.

I’m looking forward to the warmer weather, enjoying barbecues, perhaps a glass of wine and more afternoons spent outdoors.

Following Our Own Light

Despite spring’s arrival, we’ve recently experienced some rather cold, windy and overcast days. We’ve even had the fire burning again at night!

Yet the garden continues to awaken. The wisteria and tea trees are flowering, the dogwoods are producing their fresh foliage, and something new seems to emerge every day.

Nature reminds us that everything has its own rhythm.

Just as some plants flourish in sunshine while others prefer shade, our own needs change as we move through life’s seasons.

There are times when we feel inspired to step forward, embrace opportunities and share our gifts with the world. And there are times when we need to slow down, seek shelter and rest.

Perhaps following our light isn’t about constantly chasing sunshine. It’s about recognising what nourishes us, embracing what brings us joy and having the courage to be ourselves.

It’s also about appreciating the quieter moments.

An afternoon cuppa, butterflies dancing between flowers or simply watching the changing light across the garden.

Sometimes we become so busy doing that we forget the pleasure of simply being.

And perhaps that’s what those little orange poppies have been reminding me.

To welcome the light when it arrives, honour our need for rest when it fades and remember that there’s beauty to be found in both the sunshine and the shade.

A Little Reflection

What brings light into your life, and are you allowing yourself the time and space to enjoy it?

September 28, 2026
Growing From What We Already Have

One of the things we’re discovering as we begin creating the gardens at Earth Rhythms is that we don’t necessarily have to buy every plant we need.

Sometimes we just have to look at what’s already growing here.

There are established plants throughout the gardens that are producing new plants of their own, others we can take cuttings or divisions from, and plenty of little volunteers appearing in places where they can’t necessarily remain.

So rather than simply pulling them out and throwing them away, we’ve been potting them up.

Recently that’s included new calendula plants, African daisies and irises that have been popping up around the gardens.

Today we also lifted a young Japanese Black Pine that had appeared in a bad position close to the house, along with some of the yellow pigface growing around the property.

There are succulents throughout the gardens too, as well as geraniums, so I had been taking cuttings from those and potting them up just after we got here as the ideal time for taking Geranium cuttings is Autumn.

Some of these plants will eventually find their way into other areas of Earth Rhythms. Others, once established and growing well, they may find their way to friends gardens and be swapped for other plants while the bigger hope is that these will eventually become plants we can offer for sale.

It’s something we’re trying to do wherever it makes sense.

Some plants will be grown from seed. Others will come from cuttings, divisions or the new plants that simply pop up around established ones. We’re also propagating from some of the plants we brought to Earth Rhythms with us.

Even my dahlias are becoming part of this.

I’ve been checking the tubers I stored over winter and have selected some of the named varieties I’ve grown for several years and now have numerous tubers of. Rather than waiting another six to eight weeks to plant all of them into the ground, we’ve been trialling a few in pots inside the hoop house.

They’ll have some protection and warmth while we still have the possibility of frost, and if they begin producing good strong shoots, I’ll be able to take some of those shoots as cuttings and hopefully create additional plants. I already have some I had in pots that we brought from our previous garden starting to shoot in the hoop house.

At the same time, we also have our dahlia seedlings — some grown from seed I collected over the past season or two and others from selected seed I’ve bought.

It’s early days, and not everything we try will necessarily work.

But every plant we successfully raise ourselves is one less plant we need to buy. More importantly, we’re gradually learning which plants grow well here and building our gardens and future plant stock around what we’re actually seeing on the property.

Perhaps that’s the part I enjoy most.

Before we buy more, we’re learning to look at what is already growing, thriving and multiplying around us.

Sometimes the beginnings of the next garden — or even the next plant we’ll eventually sell — are already sitting right under our feet.

September 24, 2026
A Life with Birds

Birds have always been part of my life.

My love of them is something I shared with both my mother and my sister, and many of my memories of Mum have birds woven through them.

She talked to them, just as I do.

There was a pair of Butcherbirds who returned year after year, bringing each season’s babies with them. I can still hear their beautiful serenading song in my mind as they sat perched on her back steps.

There were Magpies that would follow Mum through the back door and into the house, wild ducks that chased her up the driveway, and Kookaburras she would feed from the old Hills Hoist clothesline.

That connection continued later when Mum and Dad came to live with us and we shared a home on small acreage.

We would put feed out and sometimes there seemed to be birds everywhere — Galahs, Lorikeets, King Parrots, ducks and more.

At times we would have as many as 24 King Parrots visit at once. On rainy days we’d find them sheltering under our covered outdoor area, and some became so comfortable around us that they would even eat from our hands.

So when I say birds have always been part of my life, I really do mean it.

Surrounded by Birdlife

Here at Earth Rhythms, that continues.

What feels different isn’t my love of birds or the way I interact with them.

It’s the abundance.

With the gum grove, open grass, gardens and wilder spaces around the property, birds seem to surround our everyday life.

I don’t even have to step outside the house to encounter them.

From the bathroom window I can see birds amongst the Wattle in the front garden. From the lounge room, I watch them feeding across the back lawn.

The hallway window has become one of my favourite places to pause for a few minutes and simply see who’s around. From there, I can often watch the early morning bathing ritual of a pair of Eastern Rosellas in the large water bowl.

The Magpies wander right up to the back steps, fossicking and digging through the garden beside the deck.

We regularly disturb the Noisy Miners simply by walking out the front door, as they spend so much time amongst the Red Flowering Quinces growing either side of the entrance. Around the back, they’ll also search through the Lemon tree and others nearby for nectar and spider webs.

And from our bedroom, King Parrots and Rosellas can often be spotted sitting in the tree just beyond the deck.

The birds aren’t something I have to go looking for here. They’re simply part of the day.

From Visitors to Residents

The Crimson Rosellas have perhaps made this difference most obvious to me.

At our previous home here on the Highlands, they were visitors — beautiful flashes of crimson and blue that would appear and then move on.

Here, they’re residents.

There are usually at least six somewhere around the property throughout the day, alongside the Eastern Rosellas, Magpies, Butcherbirds and Noisy Miners.

And slowly, there seems to be a little less distance between us.

As the months pass, the birds appear increasingly comfortable carrying on with whatever they’re doing while Rod and I work nearby in the gardens. The Magpies continue fossicking, the Rosellas don’t always immediately fly away, and we’re able to move around without everyone deciding it’s time to leave.

Perhaps they’re getting used to us too.

After all, we’re the newcomers here.

More Time to Notice

Living at a slower pace hasn’t created my love of birds. That’s always been there.

What it has given me is more time to enjoy them.

Time to stand at the hallway window and watch the Rosellas bathe.

To notice a Magpie working its way across the lawn.

To stop when I hear a familiar call.

To talk to whoever happens to be keeping me company while I’m outside.

They’re small moments, but they’re becoming part of the rhythm of living here.

And sometimes, when I find myself talking to one of the birds, I think of Mum and all those conversations she had with hers.

The Butcherbirds bringing their babies to meet her.

The Magpies following her inside.

The ducks chasing her up the driveway.

The Kookaburras waiting at the Hills Hoist.

I understand it.

I’ve always understood it.

And I think she would have loved the birdlife here too.

September 20, 2026
When Life Gives You Lemons…

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Or, in my case, you juice them and add them to the soda water you love to drink.

Just below the hallway window where I often pause at are two established citrus trees — one lemon and one orange — and since moving to Earth Rhythms they have given us an extraordinary amount of fruit.

We’ve lost count, but I would guess we’ve picked at least five of our big 25kg mayonnaise buckets full between the two trees since moving here in April.

That’s a lot of citrus.

We’ve given plenty away, but we’ve also been finding different ways to use as much of it as we can.

One of the simplest has become one of my favourites. We juice the fruit, pour the juice into ice cube trays and freeze it. Then we can simply drop a cube or two into our soda water whenever we want one.

The oranges have also found their way into Rod’s cooking. When he cooks corned beef, orange is one of the flavoursome aromatic ingredients he adds to the cooking water, and both the lemons and oranges regularly find their way into other dishes coming out of our kitchen. A recently new favorite of mine is Greek Chicken with Lemon and Feta – the recipe popped up on my Facebook feed so we gave it a try.

One of the surprises for us has been just how well the citrus grows here.

At our previous home, only around 50 kilometres down the road, citrus was something we simply couldn’t grow successfully because of the frosts. Yet here we arrived to find an established lemon and orange tree not only surviving but producing more fruit than we knew what to do with.

Seeing how productive they’ve been has encouraged us to want to plant more.

Since moving here we’ve added another lemon and orange tree, along with a lime, raspberry and mulberry and I have just this week purchased blue berries, cranberry and Chilean guavas to add to our fruit trees.

It will obviously be a while before our new trees are producing anything like their established neighbours, but eventually we’re hoping they’ll provide fruit not only for our own kitchen, but some seasonal produce we can offer for sale as well.

I’ve even saved some seeds from the existing lemon to see if I can grow a few more trees from seed.

There’s no guarantee that a lemon grown from seed will eventually produce fruit exactly like the parent tree, and that’s really part of the experiment. I’m curious to see what grows.

And apparently our existing lemon tree is nowhere near finished.

Despite the amount of fruit we’ve already picked, it’s still covered in flowers and buds — a pretty clear indication that there’s plenty more fruit to come.

We didn’t plant these original trees. Someone before us did that.

Now we’re the ones filling buckets, sharing their fruit, cooking with it, freezing the juice, saving some seeds and planting the next generation of fruit trees.

And judging by all those flowers and buds…

I think we’re going to need more ice cube trays.

September 17, 2026
A Little Garden Tidying

Not every day in the garden is about planting something new.

Today the yard is due for a good mow. Rod was doing some of those general tidying jobs that seem to be permanently waiting for us the other day too — whipper snipping around the edges of the garden beds, clearing overgrown areas and generally trying to keep things under control.

And as we move into Summer there will be plenty more of this over the coming months.

In recent weeks we’ve noticed all sorts of weeds beginning to appear, along with grass happily popping up in all the places we’d rather it didn’t. As the weather begins to warm and everything starts growing again, unfortunately that includes the things we haven’t planted.

Spring apparently doesn’t discriminate.

While Rod had the tools out, he also tackled the calla lilies.

The winter frosts have finally taken their toll on the foliage, leaving behind beds of rather sad-looking brown leaves and stems, so it was time to cut them back.

Fortunately, what’s happening above ground isn’t necessarily the end of the story below.

The plants will die back and then return from their underground rhizomes when conditions are right again, so for now we’re simply clearing away the old growth and letting them rest.

One of these beds, however, has a slightly different future ahead of it.

The calla lilies growing closest to the middle section of our planned flower garden area and between our garden rows are in an area we’re gradually changing. This is where we’ve started positioning some of our new raised garden beds, so eventually we’ll dig up the calla lilies from this particular bed and relocate them elsewhere on the property.

That’s becoming quite a familiar part of life here.

We’re discovering what grows where, deciding what we’d like to keep, moving things that no longer suit the plans for a particular area and gradually reshaping the gardens around how we intend to use the property. We have removed a few larger trees in the past week to make room for our planned shop and observation deck too.

It’s always good to remember that nothing ever happens all at once, particularly when you have a long to do list or a big project in mind.

Sometimes progress looks like new seedlings emerging in the hoop house or another garden bed being planted.

And sometimes it simply looks like Rod with a whipper snipper and a rather large pile of dead calla lily leaves.

Both are getting us where we’re going.

September 14, 2026
When the Flowers Reveal Themselves

As we move into Spring, one of the lovely things about experiencing our first year here is watching the property slowly reveal what has been growing quietly around us.

A few weeks ago, it was something yellow that caught my attention.

I don’t know what it is about the colour yellow, but whenever I see it in the garden I can’t help but smile. There is something about a bright yellow flower that seems to instantly lift the day.

And this particular flower came with a little surprise.

Yellow Pigface.

Pink Pigface grows in several areas around the property and is by far the colour we see most often. It is flowering strongly at the moment, with some wonderfully large, vibrant pink blooms opening across the plants.

It has also proven itself to be remarkably hardy.

Around the dam, Pigface was one of the few plantings to make it through the drought earlier this year. Much of the native grass in that area succumbed to the dry conditions, yet the Pigface held on — and now, with the return of rain and the changing season, it is flowering beautifully.

A Little Yellow Surprise

Until early September, I wasn’t quite sure what one particular plant was.

Its leaves looked similar to Pigface, although its growth habit seemed a little different, so I had been watching and waiting.

And then it flowered.

Bright yellow.

Suddenly I had my answer — another Pigface, but quite different from the pink that has become such a familiar sight around the property.

It truly is one of the things I am beginning to enjoy about our first Spring here.

Sometimes you simply have to wait for the flower.

There are a few other plants appearing around the property at the moment that are keeping me guessing too.

One in particular has leaves that look very much like a poppy. I remember seeing poppies growing here when we first came to look at the property, so there is every chance some have been quietly waiting in the soil and are now beginning to emerge.

Then again, this particular plant seems to be popping up rather enthusiastically in all sorts of places, so I could just as easily be carefully nurturing a weed!

For now, I’m resisting the temptation to pull it out.

I’ll wait for the flowers and let the plant reveal itself.

We arrived in Autumn, so there is still so much about this property we haven’t seen.

Plants that disappeared through Winter are beginning to return. Others that I barely noticed are suddenly flowering. And little by little, we’re discovering more about what was already growing here long before we arrived.

Some things like the Pink Pigface we recognize immediately.

Others ask us to wait.

And perhaps that’s part of the pleasure of experiencing a place through its first full turn of the seasons — knowing there are still things here we haven’t met yet.

And recently, one of those plants finally introduced itself…

with a beautiful yellow flower.

September 12, 2026
Before the Dam Begins Again

There are some parts of Earth Rhythms Botanical Farm that are going to look very different a year from now.

The dam is one of them.

So before work begins, I wanted to capture this area as it is today — dry, somewhat bare and still carrying the very visible effects of the drought.

When we first viewed the property towards the end of 2025, the dam was somewhere between half and three-quarters full. The water came partway up the posts of the existing jetty and, although we couldn’t know it then, gave us a very different picture of this area from the one we would eventually inherit.

By the time we moved here in March, drought had taken hold.

The water remaining in the bottom of the dam was probably only shin deep. Within the following weeks, even that disappeared.

The dam dried completely.

Much of the vegetation surrounding the dam suffered too, particularly the native grasses. Many succumbed to the dry conditions, although here and there some plants held on — including the Pigface I’ve written about previously.

Now we’re preparing for the next chapter of this landscape: working with what remains, restoring the dam itself and introducing hundreds of new native plants around its surrounds.

Starting with the Dam

The work will involve much more than simply waiting for the dam to fill again.

The dam wall is to be cleared and reshaped, including reducing some of the steepness of the back wall. Weeds and unwanted growth within the dam and around its walls will be cleared, and the surrounding soil will be prepared and rejuvenated ready for planting. Fresh Soil and Mulch have just been dropped off today.

Then comes the part I’m particularly looking forward to.

Plants. Lots of them.

Recently we visited a nearby native plant nursery with our landscaper and began choosing the plants that will eventually surround the dam.

So far, we’re looking at approximately 300–350 native shrubs and groundcovers, including Tea Trees, Grevilleas, Billy Buttons and a variety of other natives that will bring foliage, flowers and diversity back into this area.

We still have the native grasses to select. The nursery we visited didn’t have the grasses we need available, so we’ll be sourcing those elsewhere.

By the time the planting is complete, we’re expecting to have around 500 new native plants going into the dam area.

Most will begin as small tubestock, so this won’t be an instant transformation.

They’ll need time to establish, spread and gradually fill the landscape around them.

And I think that’s exactly why these photographs matter.

This is the before.

Water Changes Everything

One of the things the drought made very clear is just how important reliable water will be as we establish the farm.

Water isn’t only important for the gardens we’re creating. A dam also provides a water source within the broader landscape for the birds and other wildlife that live here or move through the property.

We’re currently going through the process of applying for approval for a bore, which, if successful, would give us another way of managing water across the property.

Our hope is that over time we can maintain a more consistent level in the dam, while also having it available as a supplementary water source for the gardens should we experience drought again and our rainwater storage begin running low.

Living through those first dry months here has certainly made us think differently about water.

Water, after all, is life.

Creating a Place to Gather

The regeneration of this area isn’t only about the dam itself.

We’re also beginning to imagine how people will eventually experience this part of the property.

Alongside the existing jetty, we’re planning a six-by-four-metre gazebo, creating a sheltered place to sit and enjoy the water and surrounding gardens.

Further out, on the lawn between the grove of gums and the garden rows, we’re planning a firepit — another place to gather as Earth Rhythms Botanical Farm gradually develops and begins welcoming visitors.

Right now, though, those things exist mostly as plans.

The dam is empty.

The landscape is sparse.

The new plants are yet to go into the ground.

And there is a considerable amount of work between what you see in these photographs and what we hope this area will eventually become.

That’s precisely why I wanted to share it now.

One day we’ll be able to stand here surrounded by established native plantings, looking across the water towards the jetty, and perhaps find it difficult to remember quite how bare it once looked.

These photographs will remember for us.

This is where the dam regeneration begins.

September 4, 2026
Rosemary, Spring & the Return of the Bees

There are some plants that seem to follow us through life, and for me, Rosemary is one of them.

I have grown Rosemary in the garden at almost every place I’ve lived over the years, so I can’t tell you how happy I was to discover quite a number of established plants already growing here when we arrived.

I’ve always loved Rosemary for its fragrance, flavour and the many ways it can be used, but there is another reason I look forward to its flowering each year.

The bees.

In my previous gardens, Rosemary was often one of the first plants along with Lavender where I would notice the bees becoming more active as Winter began giving way to Spring.

And here, it has happened again.

Just a Few Steps from the Back Door

The Rosemary growing here is flowering more magnificently than any I’ve grown before. There appear to be a couple of different varieties, and right now they’re covered in flowers.

Even better, several plants grow right against the house and around the back deck.

For those who know me, you’ll know how much I love photographing bees amongst the flowers — so lately I’ve only had to wander a few steps from the back door with my camera.

The bees have certainly found the Rosemary.

And I’ve been happily snapping away as they work their way along each of the blooming stems.

Who Else Will We Meet?

One of the things I’m curious about as the weather warms is discovering more of the insects that live here.

I haven’t yet spotted any of the native bees I became familiar with at our previous home, particularly the beautiful Blue-banded Bees that were always a favourite of mine.

But this is only our first Spring.

Already the butterflies are beginning to appear — including my first Monarch sighting — and I suspect there are many more bees, butterflies and other little garden visitors still waiting to make themselves known as the days grow warmer.

For now, though, it is the Rosemary that is bringing the bees close.

A familiar plant in an unfamiliar garden, doing something I’ve watched it do many Springs before.

Flowering, feeding the bees and quietly letting me know that the season is changing.

September 2, 2026
We’ve been Sowing Cosmos for Summer

There is something exciting about reaching this point in the year when we can finally begin thinking about Summer flowers.

Here in the Tenterfield Highlands, Spring comes with a little patience. The days are warming and the garden is beginning to stir, but frost is still very much part of life here, with our last frosts usually arriving sometime in late September.

This first season is also looking a little different for us.

Having only arrived on the property in Autumn, many of our Spring-flowering bulbs and plants went into the ground much later than they ordinarily would. Some are only just beginning to push their way through the soil now, so we’re curious to see what they do.

Some may flower beautifully, some may surprise us, and others may simply run out of time — particularly if this year follows last year’s pattern, when it seemed we went from Winter almost directly into Summer.

And perhaps that is part of learning to grow in a new place.

We can plan, plant and prepare, but ultimately the season will do what the season does.

With temperatures now beginning to rise, and one eye on the longer-range forecast, we’re starting to look ahead to the flowers that will carry us into Summer.

And one of the first into the seed trays this week was Cosmos.

An old favourite

My relationship with Cosmos began some years ago with Pink Sensation. I fell in love with their wonderfully airy nature and, as often happens with plants, one variety gradually led to another.

Over the years I have continued adding different colours and varieties, and this season I’ve sown eight different Cosmos for our first Summer here at Earth Rhythms Botanical Farm.

They can grow wonderfully tall, yet somehow never feel heavy in the garden. Their fine foliage and flowers float above long, slender stems, making them a beautiful filler amongst other flowers and bringing softness and movement to bouquets.

But I think I love them most when they’re simply allowed to do what Cosmos do.

Grow tall. Reach for the sky. Dance in the wind.

They’re one of my favourite flowers to photograph, capturing those delicate flowers standing tall against a beautiful blue sky.

And we’re not the only ones who love them…

Cosmos bring plenty of other visitors to the garden too.

Bees move amongst the flowers, disappearing into their centres before moving on to the next bloom.

And then there are the Rosellas.

A few years ago, I discovered something else about Cosmos.

Rosellas love their seeds.

We have many Eastern and Crimson Rosellas living around the property here, so I’m particularly curious to see what happens when eight varieties of Cosmos are eventually flowering and setting seed in the garden.

Perhaps I’m planting a Summer flower garden.

Perhaps I’m also planting a rather impressive Rosella buffet.

Time will tell.

And honestly, I won’t mind sharing some.

One of the things we’re already learning here is that the garden doesn’t exist separately from the wildlife around it. Birds, bees, insects and other creatures become part of its story too — sometimes delightfully, and sometimes by helping themselves to something we’d rather they hadn’t!

Like the King Parrots and our Sunflowers.

But don’t get me started on Sunflowers… because we have another little lover of those who has recently been stealing the seeds straight out of our seedling trays.

That’s a story for another day.

Sowing Summer while Spring is still emerging

There is something I love about the overlap happening in the garden at the moment.

Some of our Spring flowers are only just breaking through the soil while, alongside them, we’re already sowing for Summer.

It is a reminder that a garden is rarely all one season at once.

There are things finishing, things emerging, things being planted and things we’re only imagining.

Cosmos Picottee and Rubenza in the garden last year.

The Summer garden doesn’t begin when the first flowers open.

It begins now.

With tiny seeds pressed into soil while Winter is still loosening its hold. With empty beds waiting outside. With a little imagination about what might be standing there several months from now.

There is still frost to come, Spring flowers yet to emerge and plenty of work ahead before these little Cosmos seedlings make their way into the garden.

But the first seeds are in.

And another season has begun, long before we can see it.

August 27, 2026