This Piece of Earth by Harvey McQueen

Author:Harvey McQueen
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781577551178
Publisher: Awa Press
Published: 2012-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

january & february

The refuse bucket fills up while the stockpot empties

what a rhythmical universe it is.

IAN WEDDE Heavy Breathing

January is a difficult month for the garden. Not only does vegetation growth slow down, but we nearly always go away for over a fortnight or so, visiting family and friends, and quite often staying at a beach – Tata in Golden Bay or Onetangi in Waiheke. It’s an old dilemma: travelling and gardening don’t mix, but being greedy I want both. I feel mean leaving the garden. Dedicated gardeners shouldn’t desert their patch. But at least, while it can get dry in late January, earlier there is usually rain.

This year we house-sit our friends John and Tiffany’s place in Epsom. I envy them their grapevine. Tiffany’s from Christchurch. She’s trying to grow a Cathedral City garden in Auckland’s climate, with its great variations from dry to highly humid. Most gardens in Auckland veer towards the tropical, with plants such as bougainvillaea, calla lilies, hibiscus and bird of paradise. From the upstairs windows we can see pawpaw and banana trees in neighbouring properties. Hens regularly announce the laying of an egg: Tiffany’s budgie, a cheerful little creature, mimics their cackle.

During most of the time my mother lived in Christchurch – 1966 to 1983 – she kept chooks in her backyard. Not only did they provide eggs – and an interest – they also got rid of garden and household rubbish. If I had some at Farm Road they would rapidly clear up the wandering willie. But they’d be a bigger tie than the cats.

Hand-watering the garden on an Auckland evening brings mixed emotions. I’m delighted to see plants respond to the spray, and pleased to be doing this satisfying chore, but I wonder what is happening back home. Sometimes when we get back from being away we find one or two plants have died from lack of water, but in most seasons they survive. If there is too much rain we’ve a different problem – rank growth, even rotting plants, in the vegetable and flower beds. So while we’re away I listen to the Wellington weather forecasts. There is not much I can do, but at least I can follow what is probably happening in my absence.

The first thing I do when we get back is take a quick walk around the garden. Even before we get out of the car I notice a bough on one of the silver birches has broken off. Some kind neighbour has sawn it through and left it on the bricks in front of the house. There must have been strong winds. Dry ones too, by the state of the lawn. Dead annuals prove it. The rocket seed heads have exploded but underneath there are no new plants, so there’s been little rain. The mini-cauliflowers, radicchio and lettuces have all bolted to seed, while the sweet peas, French beans and runner beans look decidedly uncomfortable. I don’t unpack the car; I start watering straight away –

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