news, latest-news,
First, a confession. I rarely relax in a garden. There are always tomatoes that need picking or a weed to be hauled up. Even in friends’ gardens I’m usually asked about their codling moth problem… A pause for reflection there. Picking tomatoes is relaxing – assuming it’s only a basket full. It is also a deep and fragrant joy. Even plucking the odd weed is fun. And giving a short spiel on garden pests while being plied with champagne and or rosehip tea with guacamole and an interesting range of cheeses is a delight. You don’t have to “do nothing” in a garden to relax. A garden should be intrinsically soothing, with a comfortable, private place to sit. The privacy is essential, but it doesn’t mean you need to be walled in. You can relax in a patio garden in high-rise apartments overlooking a highway long as you are partially hidden by the shrubbery, because people bother craning upwards, and anyway you are lost among man. Unless there’s a lot of foot traffic past your garden, a mix of trees and shrubs will prevent anyone except a determined interloper giving your garden activities a close inspection. Otherwise you do need walls or hedges, though you might consider the Japanese “moon gates” on your walls, decorative openings high enough so passers by can’t peer in, but to lessen feelings of claustrophobia. You now need a place to sit or sprawl or even have a nap in the shade. Avoid hammocks. Apologies to anyone who has just given Uncle Harry a hammock for Christmas. Hammocks are great fun for kids, and very tempting indeed as they dangle under the trees or on the veranda – it’s probably relaxing simply to gaze at them and dream of lounging. But hammocks are hard on the back and can be a drama to get out of. One of the multipiece outdoor lounges is ideal, the kind that can be turned into a temporary bed for a visiting 2 metre tall teenager, or arranged to sit eight for dinner, or become a footstool and book rest and a separate spot for the cat. The sound of water is peaceful, as are the clinking of ice cubes in a jug. A book is peaceful, even if you don’t read more than a paragraph and then doze. Unlike a handheld screen a book will never demand you answer a text. Mosquitoes are not peaceful, nor will citronella candles keep them all away. Go long loose sleeves and long loose legged clothes in late afternoon and evenings and douse them plentifully with repellent, rather than your skin. Then you can relax… It can also be tactful to take a broom handle and tie a cloth on it and venture out to inspect all garden furniture for spiders and webs before visitors arrive. Our home is festooned with spider’s webs. I have to do a weekly sweep of the front door and the bathroom windows to stop scaring away friends and relations. A flowering garden means lots of insects, which means many many spiders, but most are extremely discreet or harmless to humans (I do keep a very wary eye out for the venomous kinds). The endlessly determined spiders that spin vast webs between the fruit trees each night are delightful and fascinating, but a guest seeing a spider suddenly peer out of a crevice in the garden bench they are sitting on is not relaxing. Visiting goannas, on the other hand, are hilarious, unless they raid your barbeque. The best reptile deterrent I know is a half frozen water pistol – keep one in the freezer in reserve for garden lunches. Reptiles hate a squirt of cold water, and will retreat. Actually a squirt of cold water repels just about anything furred, feathered or human. Which brings me back to watering. At night. Watch the stars seem to move and realise you are on a small blue miraculous planet spinning in the darkness. Smell the scents of soil and leaves and the many flowers whose fragrance is far stronger at night. That’s all you need really, just the smells of darkness, and the stars. Even the hose is dispensable. And happy tranquil garden days to you all.
/images/transform/v1/crop/frm/3BUUzmFAhrhLyX9rFCubPq5/980dacdb-196a-4014-98f9-3168196992a5.jpg/r0_258_6048_3675_w1200_h678_fmax.jpg
It’s the time of year to try to relax in the garden. Picture: Shutterstock
First, a confession. I rarely relax in a garden. There are always tomatoes that need picking or a weed to be hauled up. Even in friends’ gardens I’m usually asked about their codling moth problem…
A pause for reflection there. Picking tomatoes is relaxing – assuming it’s only a basket full. It is also a deep and fragrant joy. Even plucking the odd weed is fun. And giving a short spiel on garden pests while being plied with champagne and or rosehip tea with guacamole and an interesting range of cheeses is a delight.
You don’t have to “do nothing” in a garden to relax. A garden should be intrinsically soothing, with a comfortable, private place to sit. The privacy is essential, but it doesn’t mean you need to be walled in. You can relax in a patio garden in high-rise apartments overlooking a highway long as you are partially hidden by the shrubbery, because people bother craning upwards, and anyway you are lost among man.
Unless there’s a lot of foot traffic past your garden, a mix of trees and shrubs will prevent anyone except a determined interloper giving your garden activities a close inspection. Otherwise you do need walls or hedges, though you might consider the Japanese “moon gates” on your walls, decorative openings high enough so passers by can’t peer in, but to lessen feelings of claustrophobia.
You now need a place to sit or sprawl or even have a nap in the shade. Avoid hammocks. Apologies to anyone who has just given Uncle Harry a hammock for Christmas. Hammocks are great fun for kids, and very tempting indeed as they dangle under the trees or on the veranda – it’s probably relaxing simply to gaze at them and dream of lounging. But hammocks are hard on the back and can be a drama to get out of. One of the multipiece outdoor lounges is ideal, the kind that can be turned into a temporary bed for a visiting 2 metre tall teenager, or arranged to sit eight for dinner, or become a footstool and book rest and a separate spot for the cat.
The sound of water is peaceful, as are the clinking of ice cubes in a jug. A book is peaceful, even if you don’t read more than a paragraph and then doze. Unlike a handheld screen a book will never demand you answer a text. Mosquitoes are not peaceful, nor will citronella candles keep them all away. Go long loose sleeves and long loose legged clothes in late afternoon and evenings and douse them plentifully with repellent, rather than your skin. Then you can relax…
It can also be tactful to take a broom handle and tie a cloth on it and venture out to inspect all garden furniture for spiders and webs before visitors arrive. Our home is festooned with spider’s webs. I have to do a weekly sweep of the front door and the bathroom windows to stop scaring away friends and relations. A flowering garden means lots of insects, which means many many spiders, but most are extremely discreet or harmless to humans (I do keep a very wary eye out for the venomous kinds).
The endlessly determined spiders that spin vast webs between the fruit trees each night are delightful and fascinating, but a guest seeing a spider suddenly peer out of a crevice in the garden bench they are sitting on is not relaxing.
Visiting goannas, on the other hand, are hilarious, unless they raid your barbeque. The best reptile deterrent I know is a half frozen water pistol – keep one in the freezer in reserve for garden lunches. Reptiles hate a squirt of cold water, and will retreat. Actually a squirt of cold water repels just about anything furred, feathered or human.
Which brings me back to watering. At night. Watch the stars seem to move and realise you are on a small blue miraculous planet spinning in the darkness. Smell the scents of soil and leaves and the many flowers whose fragrance is far stronger at night. That’s all you need really, just the smells of darkness, and the stars. Even the hose is dispensable. And happy tranquil garden days to you all.
- Hopefully continuing to accept that my years of sliding down a flying fox are over. Probably. The new flying fox is tempting…;
- Drinking cool concoctions by the creek;
- Eating the best of summer: cherries, peaches, nectarines, squishy ultra-flavoursome tomatoes, the first cucumbers, sun warmed strawberries;
- Watching the first of summer’s corn cobs fatten and hoping they’ll be ripe in time for the kids to pick. Every kid needs the experience of picking corn then eating it boiled or grilled as soon as you can race it to the barbeque or pot;
- Giving the wombats an extra feed of carrots, which they don’t particularly want in this lush season, but the kids expect them to be put out, even if the wombats just give a polite nibble;
- Watering, if it doesn’t rain. Not planting. Not mulching. Not weeding. Just doing a lot of picking and eating and enjoying the best of harvests.
