Summer arriving

Traditionally, when we have wanted to think about our relationship to nature, we have gone to the wilderness, to places untouched by man.
... I think this is unfortunate... Americans [and Australians too] have a deeply in-grained habit of seeing nature and culture as irreconcilably opposed; we automatically assume that whenever one gains, the other must lose.
Michael Pollan

I walked past a front yard in Melbourne last week with a poster stuck in the middle of dead dead nothing in front of the house. The poster read: "This time I'm voting for The Greens". Sort of exemplifies the problem set out by MP. It should be easy to be green, even if renting. Read this and swoon.

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It has been a spring of record heat, mostly with nice rain intervals, some heavy rain, producing great growth. One severe dry heat day killing young blueberries.

No longer a north-facing warm winter sunroom to work in, the new growth of peach and rose make this a shady room.

These first two photos point to an underlying principle (or cluster of 'em) around the necessity that a suburban food forest enhance the human species, with its needs sybaritic, comfortable and comforting, inspiring and cheerful, as well as practical. We are in the garden, the garden gets in us.

Earlier, at the back of the house, the bedroom french doors that I installed in place of a window in 2013 extend human morning coffee life out into the garden. I pick up the camera after harvesting rhubarb for dessert later. While Helen dreams...

I was slightly alarmed to encounter the seemingly protestant ethic driven website 100kilos.org with its invocation that every Australian family should grow 100kgs of food per year. I suppose if I grudgingly give space to pumpkins we'd be there in a flash, though they take so much space so boringly, but when I look at my raised bed of spinach and 'lawns' of herbs I think I focus more on quality than weight.

If we use our compost there are always volunteer cherry tomatoes.
If it's in the garden, there are always volunteer spring onions.

In the understorey: rocket, parsley, water cress, water chestnuts, yarrow, bush basil, spearmint and other mints, chamomile, broad beans and decorative stuff too...

Lettuce (seeding), parsley, golden marjoram, spring onion, nasturtium, young tamarillo tree. All self-sown.

And then I lift my eyes to the fruit forming on tamarillo and fig and lemon and orange, guava and passionfruit and realise we will rush past the 100kgs without lifting one potato.

Tamarillos: the fruit will be like red-orange eggs, with hard skins which mean no grubs, not vulnerable to birds.
We regularly now get seedling trees from fallen fruit. The trees only last a few years, but arrange their own succession
... plus more little trees to give to others.
An unusual fruit but far more versatile than tomato or kiwifruit, needing kitchen experiments.
Fruit from February to August. Perhaps 100kgs from four trees. 

Yes look closely (click to enlarge) — there are tiny figs coming now.
We will have a constant struggle to harvest them before birds, particularly the satin bowerbird.
They know the right day, I know the right day, it's who gets up earliest...

The lemons are doing OK, espaliered, north facing. When a little older should hold fruit most of the year.
Fruit hang on the tree ripe for quite some time, ideally successive crops overlap.

... but this orange (capable or producing 100kg on its own) seems to have dropped a lot of young fruit
in the heat and wind and tempests. Ripe fruit autumn-winter and fewer fruit means bigger.
 I have also found this year that picked at the right time, green fruit can make a verjus of startling quality,
far more valuable in the kitchen than the raw edge of lemon.
Over and over wikipedia uses the word sour but in fact there is a delicacy in verjus not found in wine or lemon or vinegar in the kitchen.
Please note that we are talking here at the culture-garden edge, interface, interaction, place of imagination and experiment.

This guava seems to think it's in heaven [a.k.a. India] and is covered in fruit (click to enlarge and see fruit) which will be wonderful in January-February. Bird-vulnerable, but relatively thick-skinned, low risk of fruit fly grubs.

and behind the guava, one of now several passionfruit vines. Long season, no problems with birds or grubs. 

 Which brings us to the other garden producers, the chooks ('chooks' is a non-gender Australian word to include hens, roosters, chickens).

These three young hens, or pullets, are only five months old, so they will not produce eggs for some time. But they are already an important part of the garden. Their digestive systems will take in weeds and scraps and snails collected the night before. Their digestive systems produce a product of enormous value, which we put through the compost rather than use directly on the garden.

How do I love thee? Let me count the eggs. 
with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And dare I say, these three young women – Ancona (black and white), Livorno (top-left: the rare golden-salmon colour) and (foreground) x-breed Hairy Legs (you might see the patchy hairy legs if the photo is enlarged) – add class to our establishment: they can be admired and praised and are more entertaining than most television. We had brought them in in the dark of night some weeks ago, to join two elderly dames, generally if you put hens together in the dark on a perch they work things out in the morning without too much fuss. But the elderly dames went beyond establishing pecking order, persisting for days in slashing and wounding... which earned them an early place in the compost.

Violence. There is necessarily violence at various levels in the garden. We get more fidgety about violence between and towards animals and birds, though somehow relaxed about violence towards innocent plants that can't run away... To garden is to intervene in nature, to shift the ecology from nature's outcomes to things that serve us.

Chemical farming tends to ignore the soil and add chemicals to directly force feed plants while neglecting the soil, then to bomb with poisons. Natural farming ensures the soil continues to improve and plants thrive on good nutrition. And within the notion of natural farming there is considerable variation, from orderly regimentation with regulation of inputs to a slithering in to be somewhat in nature, with minimal distortion. Dig deeper here, in Masanobu Fukuoka's One Straw Revolution.***

Which brings us back to the 100kgs question. There is more to our kind of gardening than that nice objective. But please go see them... they seek to assemble lots of practical ideas.

I go back to Fukuoka, as quoted in the right column here:

The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.

It's challenging to read and try to follow that, it has a zenly quality. But it works. And bears fruit.

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***
From Fukuoka's One Straw Revolution

....among natural farming methods two kinds could be distinguished: broad, transcendent natural farming, and the narrow natural farming of the relative world [this is the world as understood by the intellect]. If I were pressed to talk about it in Buddhist terms, the two could be called respectively as Mahayana and Hinayana natural farming. 

Broad, Mahayana natural farming arises of itself when a unity exists between man and nature. It conforms to nature as it is, and to the mind as it is. It proceeds from the conviction that if the individual temporarily abandons human will and so allows himself to be guided by nature, nature responds by providing everything. To give a simple analogy, in transcendent natural farming the relationship between humanity and nature can be compared with a husband and wife joined in perfect marriage. The marriage is not bestowed, not received; the perfect pair comes into existence of itself. 

Narrow natural farming, on the other hand, is pursuing the way of nature; it self-consciously attempts, by "organic" or other methods, to follow nature. Farming is used for achieving a given objective. Although sincerely loving nature and earnestly proposing to her, the relationship is still tentative. Modern industrial farming desires heaven's wisdom, without grasping its meaning, and at the same time wants to make use of nature. Restlessly searching, it is unable to find anyone to propose to. 

Edge, Michael Pollan, complexity

We have returned from two weeks away to find the garden, described in its pruned state on 13 September is unrecognisable, rampant. Wonderful. Such a spring of unprecedented heat and bucketing rain.

I have some photos, which will put up shortly. Meanwhile I discovered just before we left that I had somehow missed Michael Pollan's Second Nature, A Gardener's Education published way back in 1991... though I had read other books of his. And yesterday I got it from the post office, courtesy of my favourite bookshop (no commercial advantage to me if you click).

The beginning is so close to my mind, perhaps to many others.

This book is the story of my education in the garden. The garden in question is actually two, one more or less imaginary, the other insistently real...
Both of these gardens had a lot to teach me... [and also] I soon came to the realization that I would not learn to garden very well before I'd also learned about a few other things: about my proper place in nature...; about the somewhat peculiar attitudes towards the land that an American [or Australian] is born with (why is it the neighbors have taken such a keen interest in the state of my lawn?); about the troubled borders between nature and culture; and about the experience of place, the moral implications of landscape design, and several other questions that the wish to harvest a few decent tomatoes had not prepared me for. It may be my nature to complicate matters unduly, to search for large meaning in small things, but it did seem to me that there was a lot more going on in the garden than I'd expected to find.

Yes, absolutely. And reinforcing my own sense that to go out into and seek to develop a garden is immensely intellectually complex, if you open your mind and allow nature in, allow the garden to evolve.

And there are social dimensions too. One small example: I find on return that where my banana should have one main trunk and one 'follower' for the next crop, there are five new suckers come up. My first inclination was to whack them off one a day and give them to the chickens, but then I remembered that R... had said she would take as many as possible and so would her daughter. Fortunately I have two Japanese wwoofers here to assist with the more arduous task of digging them out (compared to whacking them off) and transporting them to Helen's house for R... And so we interact with R...'s farm ... This just one of a hundred details of things to do, things to plan and things to adjust, seeing the garden after two weeks. An edge element.

An important principle in permaculture is that of the productive 'edge'. In Melbourne we met and Helen was able to visit Angelo's Deep Green Permaculture based on a small garden a short walk from where we were staying. Here is Angelo's writing on edge.

Edge is productive, overlaps are productive, edge is the basis of creativity, not only for plant life but also for human life in community. No edge, no connection – no multiculturalism – no new life, limited creativity and imagination. Perhaps I should also write about this in my strategic directions blog, my country seems increasingly anxious about shoulders that come to rub it in this complex world. Seize the day, not shut the door... Which leads back to Michael's comment about peoples' concerns about his lawn. The dominant meme being that gardening is about plonking in and then maintaining the barricades with weapons various, to keep permanent all those arrangements you stubbornly want unchanged.

But actually, can't.

——————

Oh and we return to see a disastrous early arrival in the front garden!!!

Evening light, Wednesday

from Ralph the poodle's park, just below Helen's garden in Gerringong, simple phone photo, 6.30pm... click for better view

also on that day we had to visit the Wollongong Hospital, were delighted to see this poster on a wall.

spring arrives, pruning to discuss

They say that blogging is going out of fashion.

I find that writing the blog helps me think about what I'm doing. So if there are gaps over time, just assume I'm thoughtless at that time ... :-)

 But I'm also astonished that people do look at this blog, blogger tells me that 1067 people looked at these pages during August (not including my looking). So that's a nice impetus to keep it going!

Spring is arriving in southeastern Australia. And so this is the view east from Helen's kitchen at 6am early September. We get to summer time in October.

not a UFO, a reflection of the kitchen light

There's little time left for pruning. In the last few weeks much thought about how to prune the mulberry.

Consideration of both how to get fruit (at least for the birds), how to keep building the launch tube shape, how to keep it down so that the view of the mountains is not obscured.

And now to work.

The bird cages, kettle, etc, provide weight to bend branches - sometimes we cut, sometimes we load, apply traction

the swimmer was installed with the help of wwoofers last spring
The young lady wwoofer from Hong Kong, with a political wink
called her "Goddess of Freedom"

Meanwhile at my place, lots of pruning done already, some months ago, some more recently by my gardener Renay, while I have had one shoulder in a sling.

So here is an account of varied purposes in pruning.

Elements of thinking:

• gardens, nature, are not static: change is fundamental, conventional suburban gardening where a pattern is stamped and maintained is a form of death, not life
• nature left to its own course may according to some develop disorder but in truth, it's nature's order in which it's not likely to be very concerned about people
• so for food or for shifting the environment, for light, for aesthetics, for ways to walk etc, we intervene
• Plants grown from seed can be left to take their natural form, but be wary of those that may grow to 20 metres
• Cutting into a tree has hormonal effects. You can't just leave this bit long, make that bit short. When a limb is removed, or its tip removed, hormonal signaling with auxin occurs below the cut, promoting fresh vegetative growth. So the act of cutting produces more vigorous growth from the branch you cut... which means of course that once you begin to prune something, you have a responsibility to keep pruning. Some imagine it an act of kindness to a garden to let trees run unpruned. But if pruning is not followed by more pruning, the tree will grow dense and wild and susceptible to pests and disease
• Grafted trees must be pruned, they are not natural. A grafted tree has two parts; [1] a 'root stock', a variety of the genus that grows vigorously in the ground... the head of this is chopped off [2] a 'scion' which is a cutting of a desirable fruit which the horticulturalist is able to attach so it grows on the strong rootstock. The scion is often not a variety that will grow well on its own. Also, many varieties of fruit produce seedling trees that will produce quite different fruit. So a seedling may produce something of unimagined quality... or not. So the small range of commercial fruit remains a consistent product because it is grown on grafted trees. Seedling trees also tend to take many years to fruit so it's an interesting experiment to grow them, if you want to wait and have room for lots of trees that may or may not be useful. Home gardeners also have access to grafted trees that are supposed to remain dwarf. 

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To begin with this orange tree. Oranges can grow very big, much too big for suburban gardens. If foliage gets too deep or dense, bugs can be very pleased and in damp weather diseases proliferate. The fruit, like my neighbours, need light. So this tree has had a metre taken off the top, bringing it below the fenceline, spreading and open to the sun.

and you will see in this detail (photo below) that the tree's response to pruning has been new fruit buds and new leaves. So we pruned at the right time, to produce this vigour in September. On hot days in a couple of weeks the air at the front of the house will be full of orange blossom oil.

Do note also that the tree has been well fed with compost and a fertiliser including autoclaved chicken manure, blood and bone, sea weed and fish meal.

Thursday we had a hot dry wind so in planting some new plants it was useful to put them in a little water in this old pond. Notes and map on the table to the right. The hedge behind is of Hakea salicifolia - the hedge grew accidentally but usefully to screen from the road. I had put down some wood chips in 2008, there happened to be seeds in the wood chip delivery. The hedge is now trimmed annually to chest height. All the trimmings go into the mulcher, we make our own mulch these days, or combine our woody mulch with sugar cane mulch to provide [a] weight to the cane mulch so it doesn't blow away and [b] a mix that sticks together and blocks light better than wood chip alone.

This white sapote has been growing vigorously. It is said to grow to 16 metres... 

So I chopped its head off several months ago.

You can see some modest winter growth, the smaller leaves.

Apart from space problems in the garden, a tree which produces lovely fruit far above the ground

is strictly for the birds!

This is interesting, even though you may think it looks more dreadful than interesting,,, but I wasn't going to pull the heavy table away just to give you a classy photo. This is a tibouchina which has struggled for access to light, hence sideways. It grows lots of flowers on skinny brittle stems. It has recently finished flowering and we opted to go with the stream- or wind-battered look, removing old flower stalks. It responds well to a hard prune.

This is a waratah or telopea, the emblem flower of the state of New South Wales, but a fairly rare and isolated plant. It flowers in September, but this year not so many flowers because with the strange weather earlier in the year, it also flowered in March. These are mainly found hiding in the forest, not in suburban gardens. Easy to kill many Australian plants with general fertilisers as they have adapted over geological time to soils with little phosphorus in them... so if you feed them with a general garden fertiliser with high phosphorus they may die swiftly.

detail of above

Lemon, espaliered. 

North facing, now very productive, but time to prune it again. 

In pruning this, I will remove crossing branches and continue to spread it along the trellis. 

String and wire help in the shaping.

And I will prune off tips of branches that I want to grow most vigorously, see reference to auxin in dot points earlier.

Chives growing at foot are convenient to kitchen but also may control aphids.

I think the build up of aphids on fruit trees, roses, etc also reflects soil nutrient deficiency, 

so important to work on that, not just repellants.

The large bush in the centre of this photo blow is a camellia which has just finished flowering. It has summer value in shading the front of the house... but it needs to have a metre chopped off the top now so that it regrows to a height which means we can share the flowers with the birds and to avoid dropping tree litter in the roof gutter.

North facing sunroom window, backyard. This accidental seedling peach provided full shade for the window last summer and will do so again this coming summer. Meanwhile, hard pruned in May for maximum light in the window, new shoots beginning. (click on any photo, all will enlarge)

Pruning this fig has also meant more light in the garden since autumn. 

Also important because figs can grow very large and the fruit is very attractive to birds. 

No point in having fruit beyond human reach.

Opening the tree like a vase means more light in this next growth season

and also means less dark dank spaces wherein thrip populations swiftly grow (and hungry birds lurk)

So you get the tree in shape now and be prepared to trim off branches and leaves that may suddenly be infested with thrip.

Bananas are in fact grass plants. They constantly produce new suckers (new shoots from the ground)
The objective is to have one trunk for fruit now (please, please), and a follower for next fruit. We have added potassium to the feeding regime in hope of supporting fruit development.

Well, this is a piece of a large cypress removed from the front yard six years ago.

For a time it was a bench in the garden.

Recently stood up and with chain saw 

given some little touches to enhance abstract human form

and in the night...

It doesn't matter what you do with tamarillos, they seem to know exactly how tall they want to be, go to that height and stay there. Very convenient. A nice overarching shade, on modest trunk. We hope to get hundreds of fruit from these two trees this next season (February-July 2015).

Asparagus,

In first several years, not steal too much. But now this year we are hoping for a good crop. This the size of shoot you can find in one day's growth. Important now to keep cutting as they emerge and encourage underground proliferation. If you let them rush up to leaf and seed, that's the end of the crop for the year.

Picked fresh, eat fresh, no need to cook.

This is a quince, selected for foliage and form as well as fruit. It occupies a position north east of bedroom French windows at back of house. In the winter without leaves, sun streams in in the morning. In the summer we want shade. Leaves coming.

I have removed a couple of branches which were crossing over others. 

And have added a milk bottle with about 1kg (1 litre) of water, to gently encourage that strongest branch to bow outwards.

Light and shade, comfort, sensuality and aesthetics.

Watch the dog. 

In winter the dog will remind you where the sun falls by seeking and sitting in sunlight.

On a warm spring day, every poodle deserves to make its camp in the shade of the fence,

 among violets, with freesias at nose.

This is a big job to be done soon. This Pistacia chinensis provides wonderful shade behind the house but is leaning over too far, descending lower in recent wet weather. We have to get weight off the top and perhaps prop the trunk.

Everything changing, always. Wonderful!

little films, little events

Helen's north side, southern hemisphere sunny side, has removed a tree, a cypress to which they seemed very attached while reluctant hitherto to understand how very big it had become, would become. Removing it has given much more light to Helen's front garden, which offers new opportunities for gardener and plants.

The cypress had had the top cut off some years ago in hope that its growth would thus be limited. in fact it meant multiple trunks developed.

This first movie shows some skill on the part of the arborist in dropping the last trunk.

and this is something entirely different. One living space in my house has a very large window to the south, facing a metal fence and the wall of the next house. a very narrow garden bed, beside a concrete path, no sun in winter, blistering dry and hot in summer. When I arrived in 2008 I planted two Kennedia rubicunda, Dusky Coral Pea, which has over-run the whole space, turned the view green and created summer cooling. And in this springtime, red flowers with nectar for red wattlebirds

late winter/early spring rain after months dry and windy

VioLaceus and Tenuirostrus in the garden, along with others. The Satin Bowerbird and Eastern Spinebill. Rain has brought the birds rushing about, after a long, very dry, very windy winter blowing hot and cold.

The garden has survived, despite madness, with a poodle in the backyard that thinks it's a rabbit, digging and digging, and rabbits (initially one, then become three) in the front yard, thinking they are poodles, wanting cuddles almost, so tame if they were in America I'd run up a tree fearing rabies. You come out the front door at 2 in the afternoon and there on the concrete beside the car, in surprisingly warm winter sun, is a run-away-from-home rabbit, sprawled like a poodle, fore legs forward, back legs backward, waking up and saying hellooo what are you doing here?

I chose the winter to have the rotator cuff repaired in my right shoulder, having had six weeks in the sweaty summer with arm strapped immobile, for left shoulder. An operation requiring three holes, a router, a vacuum cleaner, a drill, five round headed screws, a sewing machine and string, managed I think by a ferret. At least, it has felt like violent ferret work in the weeks since 11 July. The garden-virtue of doing this now is that the garden has at best grown modestly in cool and dry, and management possible with weekly visits by my gardenologist Renay, assisted of course by rabbits and poodle. And when I have been absent, most of this period in recliner at Helen's house, Renay has had the conversational assistance[?] of retired but for once not retiring gentlemen neighbours, the most persistent of whom never crosses the road to see ME!! I must go buy a blonde wig. Also the ex-highway patrolman, asking with kind concern about my health but who seems resistant to my expressions of concern about the freedom he and his wife have given to these rabbits, taking them in, giving them a little house... and leaving the gate open for them. I say he's harbouring a felon, he just says with widening eyes that his wife thinks they are lovely. I have to get to him and show him the 1995 Regulations under the New South Wales Rural Lands Protection Act, wherein it sayeth, terrifyingly:

In case you read that down to the end Wikipedia adds this alarming discussion about curtlilage and "separate intimate activities":

In law, the curtilage of a house or dwelling is the land immediately surrounding it, including any closely associated buildings and structures, but excluding any associated "open fields beyond", and also excluding any closely associated buildings, structures, or divisions that contain the separate intimate activities of its own respective occupants with those occupying residents being persons other than those residents of the house or dwelling of which the building is associated. It delineates the boundary within which a home owner can have a reasonable expectation of privacy and where "intimate home activities" take place. It is an important legal concept in certain jurisdictions for the understanding of search and seizure,conveyancing of real property, burglary, trespass, and land use planning.
In urban properties, the location of the curtilage may be evident from the position of fences, wall and similar; within larger properties it may be a matter of some legal debate as to where the private area ends and the 'open fields' start.^[1]

Absolutely.

I also have to explain to the highwayman that the control problem could be larger when there are 1.8 million intimately active rabbits in our cul de sac curtilages, see this. I'm not calling the ranger, that would be uncouth ... and he's unlikely to do anything given that there are villages around here where at dusk you have to pick your way over the lawns between kangaroos, wallabies AND rabbits. 

Meanwhile, back for a bit from convalescent decrapitude with immobilised arm at Helen's, I let Ralph poodle out the front door ahead of me in the mornings and he chases the rabbit/s back home, so fast no photo possible. Quiet curtilaginous cul de sac, safe for such freedom for a car-blind dog.

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Anyway, we've had near 100mm of rain in a couple of days and everything in the garden is happy. (Poodle not included, he avoids going out in the garden in the rain.)

At this time of year as we eat breakfast we see the Eastern Spinebills rushing through the nasturtiums, main flower just now in the backyard. In the front yard they currently have azaleas and Chinese lanterns.

Yesterday interesting observation of bower birds. A year ago I scattered around paving in the garden a number of small blue ceramic tiles, about 1/2 inch square. They've all vanished now. The male Satin Bowerbird commands a territory (Graeme Chapman suggests 5 per square kilometer) and retains his hypnotic control over women by building a bower wherein he dances. I do not know where the local chief keeps his bower, but there's lots of bush nearby. Here are two photos I took several years ago of bowers. The first in hot dry country in the Northern Territory, only white shells available for ornament (or shells bleached white in the weather), the second from where I used to live 20km from here, next to a country post office/store, shedding plastic tape, bags and lolly wrappers. What we can't see but the lady bowerbirds can see is that the saliva used to stick the bower together glows iridescently at frequencies we can't see but they can.

We could watch dancing in that second bower but that ended when a large alpha feral cat got the bowerbird. I wrote a piece broadcast on Radio National, about the ethical ecological dilemma involved, the cat having also 'controlled' the antechinuses (marsupial mice) who had been eating the peas. We are strangly cat-deficient in this street, very unusual. There are tens of millions of feral cats in Australia. The rabbits-uneaten-by-cat eat flowers (preference for yellow rather than purple), mondo grass and, again, peas. Not so keen on rocket, which is perhaps a bit peppery for a pampered palate.

THIS IS NOT MY VIDEO, JUST FOUND IT ON YOUTUBE
watch and smile, grown men may weep, women may laugh loudly 

acknowledgement to 'anyoneseenthisyet' of YouTube

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I note that, with no dog or chooks about, we saw several weeks ago while lunching in the backyard, mice and an antechinus. Not seen these last few days, there is currently heavy patrolling by a currawong, who may in his unmatched viciousness have wiped them out. It's rotten, rotten news when currawongs become dominant. It seems to happen, as I previously observed in Canberra, when small bird populations have been diminished by savage weather: hard rain, fierce heat, long dry cold. The small birds have much less body weight and volume relative to surface area and have difficulty surviving overnight in bad weather. As their numbers decline, currawongs seem to move and hunt more territory more vigorously. Helen's garden has a big problem with Indian Mynas. We've bought a trap. To deal with the currawongs I may need to teach the poodle to fly.

————

Anyway, back to yesterday. I had planted yet another small thyme plant several weeks ago and to mark it for me and for Renay arriving in my absence, I had cut a piece of blue punnet with the label 'common thyme' thereupon, and stuck it in the ground. The poodle initially followed my example and tried to dig everything up, then kept nicking the blue name tag... but eventually his boredom arrived sooner than my persistent correction.

Yesterday, however, I look out the window and see this:

... what (between nasturtium and rocket) looks initially to be a female bowerbird, of whom great numbers steal fruits, but this bird, with the blue plastic label (the thyme plant is behind the palm) in mouth, must be a juvenile male.

image cropped and sharpened in Photoshop

 The Australian Museum advises

The adult male has striking glossy blue-black plumage, a pale bluish white bill and a violet-blue iris. Younger males and females are similar in colour to each other, and are collectively referred to as 'green' birds. They are olive-green above, off-white with dark scalloping below and have brown wings and tail. The bill is browner in colour. Young males may begin to acquire their adult plumage in their fifth year and are not fully 'attired' until they are seven. - See more at: http://australianmuseum.net.au/Satin-Bowerbird#sthash.lcST2pRD.dpuf

Soon after, the boss of the neighbourhood arrives...

image cropped and sharpened in Photoshop

...and begins to move around, gently driving the young bird away. In this photo below, he's on a wire fence, visible at the top of the timber pole sculpture, staring down the teenaged upstart.

image cropped and sharpened in Photoshop
Now you see why he's a 'satin' bowerbird

For a while the young bird tries to stay round and hide in and nibble at rocket in a raised bed, but the boss bird, who has taken no interest in the blue plastic [note 28 August: it's vanished now], knows where the young bird is and eventually the young bird flies away. I don't have a picture of the bird after it left, but it's so hard to see (follow yellow arrow) in the middle of the rocket, it's almost a picture of when it's gone. I don't know how far the boss male flies from bower to get here, nor do I know how often he does the rounds to stop this kind of upstart raid, but it must be a major spring preoccupation. I wish he'd chase the blackbird away, it damages things and it out-competes too many native birds.

Click on any photo to enlarge all of them, 

then you'll see the yellow arrows in the photo below.

image cropped and sharpened in Photoshop

Well, it's nice to write something... the business of persistent pain makes focus difficult and was a major contributor to loss of momentum with novel (bits of it here and here). There is a degree of alarm among many writers about the fate of the novel in the current era, see these musings, links [1] and [2]. There is also a very serious problem that the way people seem entertained seems to have shifted alarmingly in just a couple of years. I am away from FaceBook and Twitter and LinkedIn, but cannot escape the misery and weird political fantasies of current news, updating day and night. 

I wrote this comment to a discussion at The Guardian about our Prime Minister at the weekend.

The garden is a landscape of ideas, but at heart the pen is mightier than the shovel. At least for the brain cells of an addicted writer, though who reads anything substantial these last several years. Read with the pen, listen with the mouth, as many work colleagues used to do in Foreign Affairs. More and more the act of writing must be its own reward.

As to the difficulty of looking at my novel's text, I share the angst of Edward Gorey's Mr Earbrass and envy the simplicity of his writing misery. 

or if not the 'Continent' then Japan... So easy to write of passing parades, rather than confect a larger, coherent structure of literary merit. The garden has the good grace to keep writing itself, hunting its own coherence and evolution or revolution when you look away, muse unto itself. Alas, not the novel.