Our Spring garden

So what is flowering in our Central Victorian Spring garden?

• Spanish bluebells (scillas) in the woodland garden, hidden under the dessert ashes;
• The 80 year old pear tree in full bloom;
• The lingering fragrance of daphne on the back doorstep;
• Australian rose breeder Alistair Clark's Lorraine Lee clambering up the garage wall;
• The beautifully fragrant old fashioned freisias in the front garden;
• The Wisteria walk is covering itself with purple blooms;
• Jemimah's pink prunus blossom;
• The two quince trees;
• Pots of fragrant boronia, snap dragons, violas, pansies and johnnie-jump-ups;
• Dad's clivias, including the rare cream and deep red varieties;
• The grevillia hedge near the fire pit;
• The purple irises beneath the pear tree;
• The happy wanderer on the back fence;
• The camellia, one side pale pink; the other deep pink;
• The wonga-wonga vine in the kitchen garden.

Boronia"
Mary Fortune 1907

Welcome, sweet Spring, but not for wealth
Of wattle bloom, or daffodil,
Or violets, or lilies fair,
Or perfumed, pale jonquil;
We love them all, but willingly
We would them all delete,
Rather than lose thy heavenly breath,
Boronia, brown and sweet.

Thou fair, fair West, what wealth is thine,
Thy kauri forests grand,
Thy happy homesteads, and thy stretch
Of green, productive land;
Thy streamlets margined rich with flowers,
Thy rivers deep and wide,
Where the graceful black swans thou hast limned
For thy insignia glide.

Thou hast thy "Gold of Ophir," too,
Where in the deep, dark mine,
With hidden wealth for workers' hands
The wine-red rubies shine;
We envy not thee one or all,
But gladly turn to greet
Thy spring-sent messages of love,
In brown Boronia sweet.

The lover lays thee on his lips,
And sighs for kisses fled,
The motherlays thee on her breast,
And weeps her baby dead;
I place thy by my weakling pen,
And Heaven-sent tidings greet,
For well I know thou hast been there,
Boronia, brown and sweet.