Great Expectations

The higher the expectations you have for yourself the higher your achievements will be. Well at least that's the theory. I watch gardening Australia without fail. On the few occasions where I have missed both the Saturday and Sunday viewing of the program I have that feeling I have left something behind on a train that's now pulling out of the station. The information gained on the show is priceless. The segment I hang out for,the tours through some truly magnificent gardens. Gardens that have taken Decades to evolve. This is where for ten minutes or so Sam can hang off the ceiling fan, scream at the top of his lungs and abduct the sweets jar. I am obliviously absorbed, more than a little green with envy.
Gardens that have evolved to become an integral to the entire environment around them. Supporting thousands of different insects, birds and mammals. I am sure that peace, that sensation of breath, you have when viewing these stunning gardens, seeps through the electronic telling and pervades the living room of all who watch. This is the expectation of I have of my garden. I want it to seep into your body the way tension lets go after a deep breath. I want the greenery to be that refreshing, that harmonising. An expectation of moss covered trunks, birds high in a canopy, moist shade and the scent of Magnolia on the twilight. If I squint and look at the blue fig (quandong, spelling?), that just shoots away with a whiff of moisture, I can almost see the canopy forming. The birds are here. As the garden expands the variety of my feathered friends that visit its blossoms and leaves, expand too. The last time I bothered to go through the bird book and count the species I have seen inhabiting my garden and its surrounds, the count was around 50. Quite a few I have only seen once or twice, the bee eater, Mistletoe bird for example. Others now reside here quite happily and I see on a daily basis. Some of the smaller honey eaters have even come close to landing on me by mistake as I garden. I have asked myself the question, in moments of self reflection as I curse and kick in a hole dug under the mulch by an Echidna. For whom do I garden? Tim loves the garden, we will sip tea as we wander around arm in arm, looking at the various blooms as Sam bounces on ahead. Tim and Sam would be happy with the garden as it stands or even less, so why is that I garden? For my own pleasure ultimately. I am profoundly thankful that in selfish desire the results have depended on how well I can accommodate other living creatures. In accommodating these other creatures my garden is vastly different to how I envisaged it.
The white spot on the Echidna is not his eye. This is a large tick. I did attempt on several different tries to pull it out of this poor guy. He kept curling up and I wasn't brave enough or quick enough to run the gauntlet of his spines and successfully pull it. He survived the tick as most native animals do. How could I tell? He is still digging my garden up!!



Strange how we live to eat our words. "I will never have a rose garden!" how about, "Succulent gardens aren't my thing, too barren and harsh looking for me to have them in my garden" No thanks, I would prefer to eat my crow After my humble pie!





My expectations for my garden;


I will never be finished.


My garden will be every spare scrap of land around the orchard


My garden should be self sustaining, its canopy shading out with weeds and its mulch keeping the roots moist and fed.



My garden will be exotics and native, but it will be all native friendly!



I expect never to sit under the shade of most of the trees I have planted but I expect that someone will. I expect they will look and perhaps, take for granted; The birds in the canopy, the insects on the leaves and the Echidna's digging up the ground.



I hope so.
PS THE ONSEN STILL LEAKS HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!