The sandy soil on my property is very free draining, and heavy rainfall normally soaks quickly into the soil or drains away via my anti-swales. But this spring, there is water lying everywhere. Puddles on the driveway, a small creek through my netted enclosure and a dam that’s almost full. In my time here, a full dam has happened only once before.

The catchment area for my dam is small. Diversion ditches channel water away from the dam, not towards it. When I first moved here in 2019, this didn’t make sense to me and I was determined to rectify it. But I don’t rely on the dam for water, so it wasn’t a high priority. The dam is a nice habitat for the ducks and the turtles and I love watching the dragonflies zip around chasing prey. The kids relish pushing boundaries by “just going for a paddle”, which soon becomes a complete immersion. You can tell they are born and bred Kyneton kids because they don’t hesitate to dive under the freezing cold water the moment a bit of sun pokes out in September. The dam is a critical piece of our garden ecosystem and family life, but not critical enough to warrant all the earthworks that would be required to increase its catchment area.

And because of this, in our seven years of living on this property, the dam has only overflowed once. Back in 2022, it rained and rained and rained. We had nearly double the average monthly rainfall in August and September and then triple the average monthly rainfall in October. The nearby Metcalfe Cascades turned into a heaving, roaring spectacle. And our dam overflowed, finally.

This year, the level is inching ever closer to the spillway. If the rain continues to fall in September, it will get there.

This year, the heavy rain fell two months earlier than it did in 2022. If it continues to fall in spring, like it did in 2022, then despite living near the top of a hill, I’ll need to start building an ark. I’m looking forward to next week’s Healthy Landscapes webinar to hear Dale Grey’s forecast for the coming months across Central Victoria. I want to know if I need to collecting pairs of every species across my property.

In 2023, after all the rain the previous year, I noticed a huge shift in the frog population. Pobblebonks (Limnodynastes dumerilii), which had been the most common frog species on our property for our first few years of living here, started to reduce in number. There was a huge spike in southern brown tree frogs (Rawlinsonia ewingii) and a smaller increase in striped marsh frogs (Limnodynastes peronii). A year later, in 2024, this huge increase in amphibians supported an incredible abundance of snakes. Every day I’d spot two or three basking in the garden. Shed snake skins floated around the place, outnumbering birds’ feathers. And it’s not just the frogs and snakes that responded to the wet. The echo of 2022’s heavy rainfall reverberated through my apricots for another 18 months.

The southern brown tree frog numbers have long since reduced, and last summer the snakes were far less prevalent (I have no idea where they went). This year, the pobblebonks are again more common than any other frog species on our property. But I’m wondering whether a pattern will emerge after all this rain.

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Not quite deja vu 2022

But it’s not a complete rinse and repeat of 2022. This year, the rain has fallen much earlier than it did in 2022, so the winter rainfall pattern has been much more typical. And there hasn’t been as much rain as there was in spring 2022, although the soil is saturated anyway. My feet have grown webbing. The roads are again full of potholes, and 60 kilometres per hour sections punctuate the deteriorating Calder Freeway.

In 2022, the timing of the silver wattle blossom was around the long term average, but as the season progressed most of my other phenological indicators were late. Spring in 2022 was cold and slow. Last month I shared some of my data that highlighted how most of my phenological indicators for 2026 are sketching a warm and early spring, and that pattern continues.

My garden ecosystem is well and truly waking up. First the plants emerged from their winter slumber. The insect life is increasing slowly but steadily, and I’ve spotted the first dragonflies of the season. The birds are getting busy breeding, fuelled by the new flush of protein-rich insects. The mammals, such as echidnas, are already active. I encountered one last week, while running along the back roads, and there are plenty of “snuffle marks” in the front paddock. Finally, it will soon be the reptiles’ turn to crawl and slither from their winter hidey holes. It’s almost time to start watching my step in the garden.

This month I’m particularly watching for:

• the flowering of capeweed (Arctotheca calendula)

• the appearance of the first cabbage white butterflies

• snakes beginning to sun themselves.

These are all indicators that it’s time for me to start planting my first sweet corn crop (in Hiko cells in the greenhouse, not directly sown). Based on all my other phenological data, I predict they may be earlier than usual, and I’ll adjust my planting plan accordingly.

It’s carrot o’clock

I grow enough carrots from a single crop to keep the family self-sufficient in them for a whole year. Any carrots left in the ground at this time of the year are in the process of bolting and flowering, a result of photoperiodism. When they flower they become woody, fibrous and terrible to eat. Back in June, to avoid the inevitable bolting, I lifted them and stored them in bins of sand. Tucked up under the moist sand they will provide us with fresh carrots until around Christmas.

Timing is everything when it comes to continuity of supply and avoiding gluts. It’s why I’ve developed my planting plan for Central Victoria and shared it with you. Right now, the soil in my garden is warming up just enough for the carrots to germinate. If I tried to sow them any earlier, then the crop might fail. But if I wait much longer to establish that crop, they might not be ready by the time last year’s crop has “sold out”. Asparagus is my signal that the time is right to sow carrots. As soon as I harvest my first asparagus spears (which will be any day now), I’ll be sowing my annual carrot crop to make sure there are carrots for Christmas.

Carrots are a bit tricky to get started, but once those seedlings are off and racing, they’ll soon reward you with incredible abundance. Picking them is a fun game of carrot roulette and our kids never get sick of harvesting and eating them. I recommend you set some time aside and sow some carrot seed in your own patch this week.

See my How to Grow Carrots guide for more tips on growing carrots, including my favourite varieties to grow.

How to Grow Carrots

In the pipeline

I’ve protected most of my garlic plants with wire cages. I didn’t quite have enough to cover every single plant, but despite that, Darren and Narelle the cockatoos have so far focused their destruction on my lettuce trial and spared my garlic plants. Which is great news, because it means that the second year of my garlic rust trial is continuing unscathed. The garlic leaves are still not showing any signs of garlic rust, but I wouldn’t expect that to emerge until October. Read more about my garlic rust trial here.

Another trial that is finally coming to close is my leafy green experiment. Celery has been the leafy green sticking point due to the long cropping period. The final crop in the trial is nearly done and then my data set will be complete. Later in the year I’ll send paid subscribers an update with the celery data. But here’s the inside scoop – now is the time to sow celery seeds in a greenhouse or protected spot indoors.

It’s been 10 years since I began my very popular potting mix trial. I’m in the process of fine-tuning a plan for something similar – but with a twist. It’s going to take a lot of work, and my budget for running experiments and trials has been blown to smithereens – potting mix costs how much these days?! But it’s going to be a ripper. More on this trial in a future post.

Almost tomato time

Now that I’ve proven I can grow Christmas tomatoes without a greenhouse, I’m sticking to my simpler method of relying on a greenhouse and automated irrigation. This year I sowed my tomato seeds at the end of June (my earliest sowing ever, thanks to the enthusiastic wood ducks that tell me it’s time) and placed the pots on my heat mat. The seedlings quickly sprouted and in late July I transferred the pots to the greenhouse and thinned out the extra seedlings. I sow two to three seeds per pot but remove any extra seedlings to allow the largest one to remain and thrive (see a video of this process here). Currently they’re looking strong, lush and healthy, although occasionally the slaters have a nibble on the stems and ringbark a few. Luckily, I always grow some spares.

Optimum tomato transplanting time varies depending on your microclimate. Some warm temperate gardeners, such as Melbourne-based folk, may be able to plant as early as the end of September. But don’t be tempted to get planting your seedlings too early. My Fool’s Garden experiment highlighted how much an early transplant can set back tomato plants. I’ll be waiting until at least early November to plant my precious plants into the garden.

How to Grow Tomatoes

Fig-uring it out

I’ve been stopped in the streets of Kyneton a few times by folks who wanted to talk about my recent post What the Fig? Apparently the combination of sentimentality, frustration, and researched options for a path forward really resonated with some readers. I’m glad it hit the mark.

Since writing that post, I’ve done the deed and removed the sluggish “White Adriatic” fig from our property. In its place I carefully transplanted “Pa’s” fig, added a good dose of chicken mature and mulched the tree with woodchips. “Pa’s” fig was a beautifully shaped tree, but the branching was too high up the trunk. I made the rash decision to lop it off at knee height with the aim of training it using the modified Japanese fig espalier method and my Hill’s Hoist–inspired twist.

In the unlikely event that the tree doesn’t recover from the transplant, I’ll plant the cuttings I took from it as backups. Growing figs from cuttings is incredibly easy and I expect I’ll be able to give small trees of “Pa’s” fig to other family members and friends to keep the tradition going.

Read What the Fig

Postponed planning is now a priority

This winter, life in our household has been abnormally busy. I’ve missed the long and slow downtime that usually precedes early September. I did manage to ensure my seed supplies were stocked and ready for planting. But I haven’t worked out where I’m going to plant everything. I’ve got a small number of peanut seeds to grow for the first time in Kyneton. I grew them once in Melbourne. It was successful and led to one of the earliest posts on my blog (I’ve just re-read said post and it made me cringe – in 12 years my gardening and my writing have a come a long way!). But I’m not even sure which beds will host the big crops of saucing tomatoes and sweet corn, let alone where to squeeze in smaller crops of peanuts and the single zucchini plant.

I still haven’t packed away last year’s tomato trellis, and it’s likely the new salad tomato seedlings will go straight into the same bed for the third year running. I’m not concerned about diseases because I grow varieties that are disease resistant. For me, crop rotation is less important than soil preparation and nutrient levels, and I can easily take care of both by spreading a small amount of compost across the soil surface. At least growing tomatoes in the same bed for the third year running will test my theory that no harm will be done. I’ll let you know how they go.

With spring planting about to start, I really need to get cracking with some planning. My planting guide for Central Victoria forms the backbone of my planning. Now to work out where everything will go. I’ve put together a blank version of my harvest chart and personal planting plan so you can make your own DIY versions. Download them here.

While you’re at it, check out all the other resources I’ve made available. From a list of shade tolerant edible plants, to DIY soil contamination tests and options for labelling, there is something for everyone.

Check out all the resources

My to-do list this September

September is the start of a period of chaos in my garden. Weeds and grass that stalled all winter are suddenly doubling in size every few days. Then there’s all that planning, soil preparation and seed sowing to be done. Here’s where I’ll be focusing my attention this month in the garden.

• Warming soil temperatures in September allow me to start planting root crops such as carrots directly into the soil or raised garden beds.

• I’ll be making an early start on the growing season by sowing my main basil crop (for yummy pesto) as well as cucamelons (for the kids’ lunchboxes) in pots in the greenhouse.

• I’ve already done a lot of hand weeding in various areas of the garden and smothered plenty of germinating weed seeds with mountains of mulch. In September I’ll start employing a few alternative weed control strategies. I use various combinations of natural methods for weed control, depending on the surface material and the area I’m working on. Regardless of strategy, the one consistent influence on effectiveness is timing. Come along on Friday to my workshop Controlling Weeds Naturally to find out more.

• September in southern Australia marks the start of the winds. They’ll continue to blow and howl fiercely and frequently for the next seven months. On the not-so-windy days, I’ll take time to wander through the orchard and admire the blossoming fruit trees, the bright yellow daffodils and all the things spring has to offer in the garden.

• I need to start watching for snakes. They’ll be on the move towards the end of the month, so I’ll be stashing the snake bite bandages in strategic positions across the property this week.

• The chickens and their tractor will be on a whirlwind tour of the garden over the next two months. I use them to help with soil preparation ahead of spring planting. Every week or so I’ll move them to a new part of the garden to reduce the weeds, help with a bit of pest control and increase the nutrient levels of the soil. Read more about integrating chickens into the garden here.

• Mowing. Just like the weeds, the grass grows like crazy in spring. I’ll be spending plenty of time on the mower. It creates plenty of grass clippings for adding to hot compost.

• September is important for citrus tree management. The trees start to break their winter dormancy in spring and require plenty of nitrogen to grow and set fruit. For temperate growers it’s a great time to plant new citrus trees. I won’t be planting any new citrus trees, but towards the end of the month I’ll be pruning some of my larger lemons and limes, and fertilising all of the citrus.

• I’ll be getting everything ready for October plantings. Cloches will be dusted off, tools will be maintained and plenty of compost distributed around the garden in readiness (more on using compost in the garden here).

• Asparagus spears will need harvesting every second day and I’ll be making a batch of lime cordial with all the juicy ripe Tahitian limes that have fallen from the tree.

What to plant in September

Don’t be fooled by mild weather and a few warm afternoons. The warming of the soil temperature lags a long way behind the air temperature. Plants such as tomatoes struggle if you plant them out into cold, wet soil at this time of the year. During September, there’s also a strong chance that the clear nights will result in some severe frosts. Tomatoes and many other young seedlings won’t survive these cold nights without adequate protection.

Unless you have a well-protected microclimate, you’re better to wait until at least early October before planting out your tomatoes and other fruiting vegetables. Below is my guide to some of the things you could consider planting this month in a warm temperate climate, like Melbourne’s. I’ve put together a lengthy blog post on spring planting options. It lists lots of hints and tips for growing the various options, including recommended varieties.

If you’re new to edible gardening, I suggest you read my Vegetable Patch from Scratch series before starting a project. It might save you a bit of time and frustration by steering you away from preventable crop failures. The series is popular with novice and seasoned gardeners alike. It covers everything you might want to know about growing vegetables.

My planting guide generally refers to vegetables planted in the garden (as opposed to a greenhouse). This planting may consist of seeds directly sown (my usual and preferred method) or plants transplanted as seedlings. Read more about using this guide here.

Based in Central Victoria? My Vegetable Garden Planting Plan provides details of what to plant when to achieve a good spread of produce throughout the year. It’s also useful for growers in warmer climates but may need tweaking.

With all those warnings out of the way, the longer days and the milder weather associated with the start of spring herald a change in our planting options. Many summer vegetables are better started in October, or even November, but there are still plenty of possibilities for gardeners eager to plant in September. Here’s my guide to some of the things you could consider planting this month in a warm temperate climate, like Melbourne’s.

You can start a herb garden almost any time of the year. Try growing the following and save yourself a heap of money you would otherwise spend on over-packaged bunches of herbs at the supermarket:

• Thyme

• Sage

• Parsley

• Mint

• Rosemary

• Chives

• Oregano

• Spring onions

Most of the leafy greens will handle the cold soil in the garden at the moment.

• Lettuce

• Spinach

• Rocket

• Endive

• Silverbeet

• Mustard greens

• Celery

• Chervil

• Kale

• Asparagus

The following root vegetables can be planted in September:

• Radishes

• Turnips

• Parsnips

• Carrots

• Onions

• Beetroot

• Potatoes (only if you have a well protected, frost-free site)

Most fruiting plants are grown over the summer and should be started in late October or early to mid-November. If you are eager, you could have a go at planting the following in September:

• Peas

• Strawberry runners

• Beans

• Snow peas

Good luck and happy gardening!

Duncan

Green thumb

I’m in my mid-seventies, and like you, I have always loved gardening, ever since my mother told me in my very early years that she thought I had “a green thumb” after growing some radishes from seed.

I love plants. I love that every year, every season and every week there are pleasant (and unpleasant) surprises, and that no year is the same. I love the challenge of making a better environment for my plants, especially vegetables. I love the satisfaction of piling up the daily produce on the kitchen bench and sharing it with my wife, family (now quite dispersed) and friends. I get so inspired to see our kids in their own homes finding their own world in gardening. I love meeting fellow gardeners, sharing our stories of winning relentless battles, and of course, learning new tricks. And I love the meditative joy of nurturing and being among the plants each day.

Garry M, Kew, Vic

It’s in my blood

I’ve always grown a few vegetables since way back in the early years of marriage in the UK – runner beans, leeks etc. Coming to Australia, resettling and working took up much of my time and I simply planted fruit trees: lemon, grapefruit, peach, apple, apricot. As the family grew up and left home, I had more time, particularly after I retired, so I started growing veggies again.

Then some years later my husband became ill and passed away. Since the house was on a 600m2 block and too big for me on my own, I downsized and moved closer to family, starting a new garden from scratch. Because I am an older person with a bad back, all my garden beds are raised and I can easily access them to grow lots of seasonal veggies to enjoy, and to share with family and some very nice neighbours.

Some of my ancestors in the UK were, a couple of hundred years ago, farmers in England’s west country. Funny how genetics seem to turn up generations later!

Edith W, Manor Lakes, Vic

It’s where I bloom

I have always been a gardener. I remember as a teenager buying my own seeds of marigolds and foxgloves and turning an ugly strip of earth outside my bedroom window into a blooming paradise of colour and scent. From that moment on, no matter where I have lived, I have always gardened – even when I lived in Japan in a tiny flat. At 57, I still have a giant monstera that I have cared for since I bought it in a tiny pot when I was 12 years old. Now it lives in our olive press room in a massive terracotta pot, and even though it has been through every major move with me as an adult, it has never been happier or more fecund than it is now – like me on the farm. We all have a special place where we bloom the best.

Michelle V, Pastoria, Vic

It just makes sense

I have always had a garden. Why wouldn’t you? I mean, gardening, particularly growing food, just makes sense. Food is good. Good food is better. Home-grown food is the best good food. If you are building your soil, increasing life and putting more energy into the place where you are, then you’re building a better world.

Robin H, Daylesford, Vic

Why do I garden? Let me count the whys

Following the wisdom of Wendell Berry, I want to be in the world as more than a consumer. I am an active participant in the world, and sometimes a producer. I can experience the joy and satisfaction of this every time I add a homegrown ingredient to a meal, even if it is only a handful of parsley.

I garden so that occasionally I can have the experience of my eight-year-old neighbour wandering in through the back gate and asking, “Are there any carrots? Can I pick one?”

I garden so that at the end of a day spent mostly “in my head”, I can fill a watering can and spend some time with living, green things that have grown since yesterday.

Michael S, Brunswick, Vic

For connection, even to birds and rabbits

It gives me great joy to have something beautiful around me, and to be able to look at it, the changes, the growth and the seasonal impacts.

It is so wonderful to just head out the back door and pick something right there and head in and eat it or cook it and then sit back and enjoy the fact that it grew right here.

And then there is the issue of healthy food, reduced costs, chemical free and others that come with a home garden.

The bird that wants to steal it all, and the rabbits that would happily eat their way through my patch if I were to let them all add to the experience and appreciation of the process.

I now have a massive regard for farmers, and for gardeners who supply their produce through the local markets, because I know how darn hard it is to get the product sown, grown and delivered.

Paul C, Kyneton, Vic

A simple dream

I garden so my child and my family can understand, value and find joy in where their food comes from.

I have always loved food, but growing up I had little understanding about where it came from and how things grew. As I moved into my twenties, I became more interested in growing my own food, making my own ferments, and eating in alignment with the seasons, which we never did growing up.

My daughter is 16 months old and loves being in the garden. We often pick our vegetables for dinner, and she helps me with the compost.

Seeing her joy in the garden is a simple dream I had for my life becoming a reality. It’s very special.

Molly G, location not specified

For the animals

I grew up on a farm, and my Mum had a beautiful garden. I was an animal person, however, and my horses, pet sheep, geese, dogs, cats and rabbits took all my time and care and I never really thought about gardening. Then I moved to the city to study and work. I finally moved back to the country 10 years ago, for my new dog as much as me, and we bought a bush block. But it was all gravel and barren and devoid of life, and I realised that moving to the country was about nature and life, and this would not do! I have set about making this place alive again, squeezed in gardening between work and family and pets. And I have done it for the birds, for insects, for reptiles, for my dogs and for our family and for my love of green.

Now I am called outside and while I never thought about being a gardener. I just accidentally became one!

Lara K, Barkers Creek, Vic

Covid gardening

I decided to give gardening a crack during Covid when my work hours were reduced.

I’d never really done gardening before. I do find it therapeutic. I like to see plants and seedlings progress in their growth. My first year was quite disheartening. Nothing was really growing and producing. I persevered. This year has been the best. I got about 15 oranges. My lemon is very doing well

I decided to turn one planter box into a hot house. I got a couple of cabbages progressing well. Seems that I am getting better at it. I am going to keep at it.

David M, Point Cook, Vic

Even in the inner suburbs, it’s what life is all about

I think gardening is just an innate part of my being.

I spent most of my twenties living an apartment lifestyle and grew what I could on balconies. I always thought that once I “settled down” I would have a go at growing my Italian grandmother’s heirloom tomatoes from seed. I now live in Seddon on a modest 220 m2 block and I have turned every available outdoor space into a productive garden with a tiny greenhouse and I’m living out my tomato-growing dreams.

I find gardening mentally grounding. One of my favourite simple pleasures in life is wandering out the back each morning to check on the plants and the quails, especially when I find a ripe strawberry before anyone else does!

I just find it so satisfying to cook up a family meal with fresh harvests and homemade preserves. It’s what life is all about.

Catherine Y, Seddon, Vic

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For superior flavour

Growing up, my father was a farmer and my mother looked after the vegetable and ornamental garden. Later my father planted an orchard. Being immigrants, they grew some vegetables less common in the 1980s, like asparagus, celeriac and kohlrabi.

I have always enjoyed gardening. I generally grow vegetables and fruit that have much superior flavour grown at home (tomatoes, asparagus, apricots, old-fashioned nectarines etc) or plants that self-seed or are perennials, or herbs, so that I always something edible in garden without having to do too much work (silverbeet, lettuce, kale, parsley, rhubarb etc).

I’m always wanting to try something new. A couple of years ago I planted some tromboncino squash to store and cook like a pumpkin. It didn’t taste as good as pumpkins so I haven’t grown it again, but you can train the marrows to form artistic and interesting shapes. I also tried purple sweet potatoes. This year I am growing some storage tomatoes from seed that I bought from Useful Seeds (thanks, Duncan, for the seed supplier information). It will be interesting to see how they taste and how long they can be stored after the season finishes.

Gary M, location not specified

I’ve turned into my parents!

I garden because that’s what my family has always done. Both sides of my family are gardeners going back at least a couple of generations, so I’ve grown up with it. Some are veggie gardeners, some prefer natives, my grandparents specialised in orchids, and some (like me) are generalists with fingers in lots of planty pies. But we are all gardeners.

I resisted it as a teenager, but the older we get, the more like our parents we become –and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Megan, Croydon Hills, Vic

My big brother inspired me

I’m very proud of my garden because it’s not a very big area but I’ve managed to fit in quite a bit.

My older brother was my inspiration when I was younger because his garden was amazing, so I’ve been a bit of a gardener most of my life.

Greg A, Langwarrin, Vic

It’s good for mind, body and spirit

My father always had a thriving vegetable garden that made a significant contribution to our family of seven’s meals.

It was such a wonderful experience to help shake the sweet corn stalks, pick the vegetables, water, dig the potatoes, and sit on the roof of the shed eating passionfruit picked from the vine growing around me.

After I left home, I lived in a rented house owned by an Italian that had a wonderful garden, home to chooks and bees.

Then decades followed in which I found myself in a difficult relationship and every day was a battle … and no garden.

Later in life I found my feet again and moved from Melbourne, where I had a small courtyard garden, to a totally neglected tiny house on a big block of onion weed and agapanthus. I’ve been working on building a garden of flowers, fruit trees, berry canes and vegetables for 10 years, and now, at age 75, I’m largely free of anxiety and have a garden that brings mind, body and spirit together.

Ann, south-west Gippsland, Vic

To be close to nature

I garden to hope, escape, create, learn, and make a small difference in the health of my family and the local environment.

I garden for independence and in protest against globalisation and the unreliable, tasteless “just-in-time” grocery supply chains of the supermarket duopoly.

But most of all I garden because I love being outside in all seasons, with my hands in the soil and close to nature.

Kate A, Ashbourne, Vic

A political act

This is going to sound quite grand: I garden partly because I enjoy it but also because I want to grow more of our food. I believe that we, as both growers and consumers, need to take back sovereignty of our food system from global markets and corporates, one veggie patch (or small farm) at a time!

Lewis S, Woodend, Vic

In the garden, my troubles and pain fade away

I garden because it brings me joy. Since early childhood I have loved everything about gardens. It was an escape when my world as a child was difficult and l was sometimes overwhelmed with worry about my family.

I learnt the names of plants, especially flowers and shrubs, from walking around country gardens with the women of the house whenever my family visited. It was a common thing: you visited and the “woman” did a garden tour with the children. I loved these opportunities and learnt so much – l still fall back on this knowledge today.

After I left home and lived in rented houses l had extensive veggie gardens even after l had a serious road accident which left permanent injuries. During rehab after failed spinal surgery, I read Esther Dean’s book Growing Without Digging. Her book had a profound effect on me and the way l was able to continue to garden despite my injuries.

When l married and moved to Hurstbridge, l sought the garden whenever l could. l had little children, work, home, all pulling me. l would escape for the peace, the birds and the calming effect.

Before retirement, one of my jobs was coordinating a community garden in the primary school. I quickly noticed the children who had been labelled “troublemakers “ became different children in the garden. It calmed them: the physical work helped regulate their emotions and they loved seeing results, especially if we cooked what we ate. Growing potatoes caused a real frenzy and we ended up with numerous potato patches. l was the garden coordinator for nine years. I think it was the best job l ever had, and l loved it as much as l love gardening.

When l retired, my mobility changed dramatically and l moved to a wheelchair permanently. We had moved to a flat block, and there was no garden save a few yuccas in the front yard. l managed to crawl around in the dirt and develop the front garden as soon as we moved in. The ground was tough clay soil, but l was in my element, spending every spare moment getting my hands dirty and talking to neighbours walking past and learning about all the birds in my new area .

The backyard was not accessible to a wheelchair user, so two years ago, we started a big job of designing my accessible fruit and veggie garden. This new garden calls to me every day. It’s a multigenerational space, so there still a lawn where the children can play and engage with me in the garden. One of my biggest joys is spending time with the grandchildren and showing visitors around my space and sharing the produce and flowers with loved ones, friends, neighbours and the local foodbank.

So why do l garden? In my late sixties as a wheelchair gardener, it makes me happy, and whatever troubles or pain I’m experiencing, they dissipate as l lose myself in the gardening tasks at hand and l soak in my environment. I love it.

Nola Y, Doreen, Vic

Thanks to everyone who took the time to write about why they garden. I love the sense of connection that this activity has fostered with my readers.

Read the original article here.

If you didn’t get a chance to send me your own story, then please include it below in the comments.

Why do you garden?

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Passion possible or fruitless folly?

Is it possible to grow passionfruit in the Macedon Ranges?

Bill G, Gisborne, Vic

Yes! I have two passionfruit vines growing in my citrus grove and over the past two years they have produced hundreds of fruit. The key is to create a warm microclimate. You’ll need to select (or create) a protected spot to grow the vines – perhaps against a water tank for thermal mass, or under some eaves, against a north facing brick wall. Check out Growing Citrus in a Cool Temperate Climate for more information on the microclimate I’ve created.

Other marginal crops from the subtropics that I’ve successfully grown in my garden in Kyneton include:

• many varieties of citrus, including finger limes

• avocados – I’ve already harvested two fruit. This post describes how I did it.

• macadamias (more on that in my upcoming nut grove update).

I’ve killed a few babacos and pepinos. They seem to be a bit trickier to establish in this climate.

Indeterminate vs determinate tomatoes?

Should I aim to grow indeterminate or determinate tomatoes? I like the idea of a long harvest, but I’m useless at staking and pruning my plants. The bush varieties have been my preferred choice and I think they are determinate?

Martha C, Pearce, ACT

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It’s bare-rooted season, and many trees are finding new homes in backyard orchards. Recently, I wrote about digging holes and planting trees, offering a perspective unfamiliar to many readers. Today’s post looks at the pros and cons of staking fruit trees and describes a method I’ve developed to provide your fruit trees with the best of both worlds: a sturdy support and the freedom to move.

Why wouldn’t you stake your freshly planted fruit tree?

Bare-rooted fruit trees are missing around two-thirds of their root system. Their canopy, when it leafs out, is likely to be much larger than the root mass. The poor things are top-heavy and tend to wobble like a toddler finding their feet for the first time. Staking a tree is like helicopter parenting. We need to stand back and let the tree find its own balance. Staking a tree reduces its flex and movement on windy days, but the tree needs to “feel” that motion to stimulate the development of a stronger root system. If the tree doesn’t move, it will focus on other aspects of growth, such as foliage and fruit. This sounds great, until you realise that the tree will become forever reliant on the staking. As the fruit develops, its weight will start snapping branches, or the tree will topple in the next big wind.

Trees are resilient, and a bit of tough love will usually help them grow strong and resilient. I’m all for “chucking them in the deep end”.

But sometimes they do need a helping hand

Generally, I avoid staking fruit trees, but there are two situations when I’d consider it:

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Darren’s dances of destruction have begun. This year, lettuce seedlings are Darren’s thing. Perhaps it’s because, thanks to my generous readers, I have so many lettuce seedlings in my garden. Good grief, Jen’s “Green Oakleaf”! Sue’s “All Year Round” strewn all around. And Stewart’s “Red Cos”, nipped off just beca…

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I vividly remember the fig tree planted right at the back door of my grandparents’ home in Glenroy, in the northern suburbs of Melbourne. In autumn it produced the most delicious sweet, juicy brown figs. Pa would lift me up onto his shoulders so I could scoff myself silly on them. That tree is long gone, razed by the developer’s bulldozer. But before it was razed, I struck a cutting from it, and now its roots anchor my childhood memory in my orchard.

Figs are great story tellers (novelist Elif Shafak says so too). Which is a good thing, because they can live for thousands of years. Some of the oldest figs have seen wars and peace, watched humankind come to dominate the planet, felt the changing climate, supported countless birds and other wildlife, had children climbing them to sample the fruit, and offered shade to many a picnicker. I bet those old-time fig trees have some fantastic tales to share. For many, figs are a sentimental tree. They remind folks of their childhood, perhaps their faraway country of birth. Of cuttings smuggled into the country in migrant luggage. A new chapter planted. A new story to tell .

I find figs fascinating.

A fig is not a fruit, it’s a flower, an inside-out flower pollinated by a wasp that crawls up inside it.

Two crops: breba and true

Fruiting patterns of figs are complex. There are many different varieties of figs out there, and most of them produce two crops a year. They produce their first crop, called the breba crop, in spring as the tree leafs out. That crop is formed on wood that grew towards the end of the previous summer.

Any new growth that occurs in spring and summer produces the true crop. Some varieties of figs produce only a true crop and no breba crop, while others produce only a breba crop and no true crop, but most varieties produce both.

A quick note on pruning figs

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Cutting-edge secateur recommendations

I’m sick of cheap secateurs that fall apart or quickly go blunt. Can you recommend a good pair?

Peta G, Gembrook Vic

The difference between high quality and cheap stuff is the quality of the steel in the blades. High-end secateurs have blades of hard steel. This means is the blades are less likely to chip or crack, but also that the edge will stay sharp for many more cuts than soft steel will. Avoid secateurs made from stainless steel because the blades will be too soft.

I use Felco secateurs and so do most other professionals. They stay sharp, they require minimal care and you can order every part as a replacement. Felco has a range of models suiting large hands, small hands, left hands and right hands. Barnel is another notable brand of secateurs.

I also recommend a leather holster for your secateurs. They’re great for keeping them on your belt rather than putting a hole in your back pocket. I’ve tried a few different versions of holster, and the Felco leather holster is the only one that lasts longer than a week before breaking (I’ve had mine for over 12 years now and it’s still in daily use).

I avoid secateurs with ratchet systems, as they are not long lasting enough for my work. However, they can be a great addition to backyard gardeners’ tool kits.

Don’t overwork your secateurs. Use secateurs to cut through small sticks up to finger thickness. The general rule is that if you start to strain, or need to rock the secateurs to cut the branch, then it’s time to grab some loppers or a pruning saw to do the job instead. This approach is better for both the longevity of your tools and for the tree.

Come along to my fruit tree pruning workshop this Friday 24 July to learn more about pruning equipment and how to use it.

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A magic bullet for invasive grasses?

English couch grass (or its close relative) is encroaching from the surrounding pasture into my vegetable garden and raised beds. I am digging it out of each bed and digging a channel around each bed which I will have to monitor. Any thoughts you might have on their management will be appreciated.

Lewis S, Woodend, Vic

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I’ve always been a gardener. But running. That’s something that’s come and gone from my life. There was the phase when I was in uni. I’d come home and run around the block, all 5 kilometres of it. I lived in London for three years and would often get home from work and head out in the dark to run across Putney Bridge, along the Thames, across the Hammer…

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Alignment of the planets is a rare thing, and for me, such a rare alignment occurred on 23 June 2026.

I’m not talking about the winter solstice. That was on the 21^st. I’m talking about my phenological planets. On the morning of the 23^rd, as I was nagging the kids to get dressed, brush your teeth, and get ready for school, I heard them. A gentle droning s…

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It’s bare-root season. And that means that many of my readers will be excitedly planting a new fruit tree in their garden. Perhaps you’re planting multiple trees as part of a backyard orchard. Maybe there’s “just one more tree” you desperately want to include, a coveted variety to be squeezed in between two established trees (don’t do it!). Maybe you’re about to plant a sentimental favourite, such as an “English” mulberry or a “Moorpark” apricot, to remind you of your childhood. Whatever the reason, you’ll need to dig a hole.

Before describing how I think you should dig a hole, I’ll describe the type of hole you want to avoid.

Down the wrong rabbit hole

I’ve seen it many times: folks with access to heavy machinery reckon they can save themselves some time and give their new trees the best start in life. In comes the excavator or tractor. Down goes the widest auger attachment they can rustle up. Down. Down. Down. At about a metre depth they pull out and empty the hole.

Then along comes barrows of compost. The hole is refilled.

The intention is good. Let’s drill the hole, make the soil soft. The roots can grow deep. The tree can access water deep within the soil and survive drought. The compost will give it a great head start.

But here’s the reality.

Those holes do create a lush environment for the tree roots to grow in. But that’s where they’ll stay. Tree roots won’t want to force their way from the cushy compost-rich soil into the hard, compacted clay that surrounds it. Around and around the perimeter of the hole the roots will spiral. Effectively rootbound, they’ll head deeper and deeper into the hole. But they won’t break out of it.

The first law of holes

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I love butternut pumpkins. A butternut fruit is compact. My family can get through a whole butternut in two or three sittings – less if a pot of pumpkin soup is involved. It’s a different story when our household tackles old mate “Jarrahdale”, or one of his heavyweight Cucurbita maxima mates: the outcome is typically rotte…

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Possum magic?

I’ve grown parsley in this patch for years without any bother. This year something’s eating off the tops as well as leaves off young chilli plants. Whatever it is, they haven’t gone for the peas yet!

I know we have possums chomping the top of the roses as they can walk down the fence from the tree line (possum freeway) at the back of the garden.

Are the possums taking to ground level now? We have rats but the damage seems too high for rats. Plus, a chilli branch has been broken, suggesting something larger.

Any ideas?

Steve H, Templestowe, Vic

I’ve recently received several questions like this. That’s because in Melbourne, it’s possum season!

Australia’s native vegetation is predominantly evergreen: eucalypts, acacias etc. And Old Mate Poss has evolved alongside these evergreen trees. However, the suburbs of Melbourne are now very different from a few hundred years ago. Instead of entirely evergreens, the landscape is filled with deciduous trees and nesting sites galore in roof cavities, sheds, and all kinds of curious places. Compared to a gum leaf, new growth on a plane tree must taste like chocolate to a possum. And our marsupial friends readily devour this bounty. Abundant food and cosy nesting sites enable them to breed like rabbits. But then, come autumn, all that “chocolatey” chlorophyl-filled goodness turns to cardboard, and the good times come to a screeching halt.

Suddenly, Ma and Pa Poss and their new brood must go looking for food. Yappy dogs have trained them to stay up high, and normally they avoid coming down to ground level. But in autumn, needs must, and hungrily, they venture down lower. I reckon it’s hungry possums that are enjoying the delights of your garden. Unless you find a way to stop them, they’re likely to continue to do so until spring, when the deciduous trees leaf out again.

What deters a hungry possum? That depends on the possum. Like people, they’re all unique. But prevention is better than cure: once a possum locates a food source, it is difficult to deter it. This article on managing possums is one of the most popular posts I’ve ever written. Have a scroll through the comments section, too, as there’s plenty of interesting, sometimes helpful, and occasionally very amusing advice from fellow gardeners.

Blueberry pursuit

I would like to know where you purchase your blueberry plants. I am having trouble locating a reputable nursery to purchase them from.

Bronwyn E, Nunawading, Vic

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I love the year-round interest provided by my espaliered fruit trees – blossom in spring, colourful fruit in summer, dramatic foliage in autumn and bare sculptural branches in winter. Espaliers make efficient use of narrow spaces and can be incredibly productive. I planted most of my espaliered fruit trees as spindly, bare-rooted twigs in winter 2021. By early 2024 they had filled out their trellises. In autumn 2026, some of those trees produced between 50 and 70 kilos of fruit – each!

During my garden consultations I’m increasingly seeing DIY espaliers. They’re becoming very popular, and rightly so. But in some cases I’m seeing signs of too much enthusiasm (jeepers, “too much enthusiasm” – did I really write that?). These over-enthusiastic approaches could end in disaster:

• squeezing in too many trees

• planting espaliers on rootstocks that are too vigorous

• relying on trellis systems that are under-engineered.

I’ve already written an introductory post on setting up espaliers, and I’m not planning to cover the same ground here. Want to know which types of trees suit which shape, and how to prune and train them? Then head over to this post for all that info.

Etymology: It’s all about the structure

“Espalier” is a French term, but the word derives from the Italian “spalliera”, which means “something to rest the shoulder (spalla) against”. When the French adopted the term “espalier” it initially referred to the trellis system that the tree is trained against, rather than the tree itself. And I think that’s for good reason. The most important part of setting up an espalier is the trellis system. It supports a tree that could thrive for centuries. It needs to be:

• over-engineered and robust so that it’s supportive

• able to be replaced at the end of its material lifespan without damage to the tree

• of adequate dimensions for the proposed tree

• attractive in its own right, so it enhances the beauty of the tree and doesn’t detract from it (if this is important to you).

But in my consults lately, I’ve been observing trellis structures that tick only one or two of these boxes. Some of them are not ticking any.

To combat some of the espalier misinformation out there and help you to better set up your own espalier trellises, I’ve put together this post on how to build them, what dimensions to use, and which rootstocks are best for espaliers.

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I was still wearing shorts last week. By this time of year, they should be well and truly stashed at the back of the wardrobe for winter. In this part of the world, June is typically miserable: it’s grey and dreary and the temperature rarely nudges past 10 degrees. Day after day of June weather can feel like an eternity in Kyneton. No local ever looks f…

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Announcing some new workshops for the second half of 2026

Early bookings guarantee you a spot and help me to plan more workshops. To sweeten the deal, until 7 June 2026 you can get early bird pricing on all newly listed workshops.

Fruit Tree Pruning

Gain the confidence to tackle those fruit trees.

Friday 24 July

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Espalier

Create your own garden masterpiece.

F…

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It’s been just over three years since I first discovered Queensland fruit fly in my orchard. I’ve been through a huge spectrum of emotions in my journey to understand and deal with this pest. From depression to optimism, from frustration to empowerment, I’ve felt it all. I’ve also researched. A lot. But research can take you only so far and I’m keenly o…

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Seedy supermarket garlic?

Can I just buy garlic in the shops and use that to plant? Or do I go to a garden centre???

Helen B, Dallas, Vic

Yes, technically you can use shop-bought garlic. A few points though:

• Imported garlic has usually been treated with chemicals. Some of them, such as methyl bromide, are quite toxic.

• Maleic hydrazide is sometimes used to prevent the garlic from sprouting in transit or on supermarket shelves. This may slow the process when you plant them in your garden.

• If you plant supermarket vegetables, you’ll only grow supermarket quality vegetables. Fortunately, supermarket garlic isn’t as bad as, say, supermarket tomatoes.

• Certified garlic bulbs for planting are disease free, so you’re less likely to introduce garlic rust and other diseases into your patch.

I’d be more inclined to head to a farmers’ market and buy garlic from a local grower to plant. At least that way you should be sourcing varieties that are reliable in your local climate, and they should be free from chemicals that might be harmful.

Seed selection is one of the biggest influences on gardening success. Read more about it here.

Peaks and pauses in the gardening calendar

I was wondering if you’d be able to give us an idea of months that would be quiet and others that would be busy in our orchard and garden at our new farm. We’re hoping to plan the year ahead.

Clare and David M, Ullina, Vic

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I get asked a lot about succession planting. I’ve already written about it here but readers keep asking for more guidance on developing their own succession plans. How do you go about working out when to plant each crop of sweet corn or snow peas?

Snow peas are an interesting example of how hard it can be to figure out the optimum planting time. The back of the seed packet might tell you that you can only sow them in autumn and winter. But I found that in Melbourne, you can grow snow peas all year round. They grow fine over the summer, but the length of harvest is much shorter in summer than it is in winter and spring. Despite this, I find there is some merit in sowing them in summer, even though powdery mildew does tend to overwhelm the plants quite quickly.

Snow peas are unique

I find that snow peas planted in winter might take months before they’re ready to harvest, but snow peas planted in summer often start producing within, say, two months. One trick of timing that I’ve been exploring for snow peas is sowing the next crop as soon as the current crop begins to flower.

I’ve been conducting a trial over the past nine months, and I still have a few months to go before it’s finished. But so far, sowing the next crop when the current crop flowers has been very helpful at spreading the harvests out and ensuring an almost continuous supply of snow peas.

Using flowering time doesn’t work for leafy green such as lettuces. We don’t want lettuces to flower, and when they do, it’s way too late to sow the next crop. Snow peas are the only crop I can think of whose flowering time can be used as a guide to when to sow the next crop.

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It’s not a linear thing

The lettuce data from my leafy greens trial showed how much the lead time from sowing to harvest varies throughout the year. So does the length of harvest – that is, the number of weeks you can harvest the leaves before they turn bitter as the plants bolt. Linearity doesn’t work: you won’t get consistent results if you sow your lettuce crop every four weeks. Or if you plant a sweet corn crop every two weeks from the start of October to the start of December. If you do, you’ll find that sweet corn crops three, four and five all merge into a mega glut. That might sound great – sweet corn with every meal, plus more to spare! – but I’ve found that only the rats seem to benefit from it.

How do you work out how often to plant each crop?

There are all kinds of little nuances that you need to iron out. First, you need to get yourself in the ballpark. We don’t all need to go and sow lettuce seed every month for a year to get our head around it. I’ve already done that for you. For other crops, my How to Grow Guides tell you roughly when you can plant them. Growers in Central Victoria can refer to my recently updated planting plan. Warm-temperate climate growers can use it too, but it may need tweaking.

Use any or all of those guides as a ballpark as to when to start.

Then you need to plant. You need to grow. And you definitely need to record.

Over and over, like a broken record

This year, I’ve changed my approach to how I record succession planting data. Until now, I recorded it all in a gardening diary. And I still do record most of my garden observations in that format (more on options for recording garden observations here). But for succession planting, I found it easier to extrapolate from the data and refine my plans for future years by using a new form that I’ve developed. Paid subscribers can download the template at the end of this post.

I use one copy of this form for each vegetable I grow successively – one form for all seven crops of lettuces, one form for all five crops of sweet corn, one form for all five crops of snow peas and so on.

For each succession crop I record the following data:

• when I sow it

• when it germinates

• transplant date, if applicable

• varieties planted

• when it flowers

• when I first start harvesting

• when I finish harvesting.

I also record comments about pest outbreaks and seasonal anomalies that might have influenced each succession crop.

Building a library

Over time I’ll build up a library of these completed forms that I can refer to to refine my succession planting plan. By combining this timing data with phenology and my seed breeding programs, I’ll get better at planting just the right number of plants at just the right time to ensure I achieve a continuous harvest with minimal gluts.

In the past, I’ve been haunted by gaps in my record keeping, where I’ve forgotten to write something down in my diary. In my first summer of using these forms they prompted me to really keep on top of my record keeping. Once complete, the forms provide an easy to access snapshot of data, without the need to trawl through an entire growing season of records and transcribe them into my Excel spreadsheet.

My new form is a simple and effective way to manage gardening data.

If you’d like to know more about succession planting and planning in the garden, come along to my upcoming workshop on seasonality and planning. We’ll discuss the different seasons, phenology and how to avoid gluts in the garden.

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Jump over the paywall to download my succession planting record template.

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I stopped checking the weather forecast for days. That’s unheard-of. But for a while there, every day of the seven-day forecast seemed exactly the same. The last 10 days of April were stunners – warm, calm and rain-free. Hardly a breath of wind. Perfect picnic weather. Perfect for mosaic burning. Perfect for pottering …

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I’ll remember this summer growing season for many years to come. Unfortunately, it will mostly be for the wrong reasons. The season started very slowly and the last frost was late. Then it was hot. Very hot, windy and dry. At the end of February, the rain fell and made everything hot and humid, perfect conditions for fungal diseases. Combined, these con…

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