Ever since I can remember, I have been fascinated by plants.

From the age of three, I was digging nasturtium and tomato seedlings out of Dad’s compost bin and planting them in the garden. That interest never waned and so as I was growing up, one of the very special treats I got to enjoy on certain school holidays was a trip to Gardenworld in Braeside.

Gardenworld is a sprawling horticultural complex established by the Jackson family and consisting of seven independently-owned businesses that each specialise in different products or greenlife. For a small child fascinated by plants, it was like a theme park full of places to explore and all sorts of peculiar plant species.

By far the most iconic part of Gardenworld was the enormous cactus that stood at the main entrance to the complex, near the Gardenworld Café. It was absolutely enormous, and I assume it must have been quite old because it was propped-up with an elaborate assortment of steel poles, stakes and ropes.

What used to fascinate me as a child in the early 1990′s, sitting in the café with my meat pie and iced coffee, was the string of Japanese tourists who would come via bus and have their photos taken beside that cactus. For whilst Gardenworld was certainly well-known to keen Melburnian gardeners, it seemed odd in a pre-internet age that foreign tourists would even know of the existence of Gardenworld, let alone make a visit in a bus.

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I live in an inner-city suburb of Melbourne and whilst that provides many advantages, space isn’t one of them. Despite having a degree in horticultural science, I only have a balcony upon which I can grow my plants. As a result, my botanical selection needs to look good and fit within a defined space. Hence I have turned to bedding annuals.

Bedding plants aren’t popular like they used to be. I believe the 13-year drought had a lot to do with this, which is a pity because regardless of their water consumption, bedding annuals put a smile on everybody‘s face, guaranteed.

Winter may seem a dull season, but it needn’t be if the correct plants are selected.

To colour my balcony (and impress my neighbours), I selected cinerarias (Pericallis ×hybrida cvs.), primulas (Primula malacoides) and pansies (Viola ×wittrockiana cvs.) which I believed would provide good colour throughout the winter months. All were planted in March and are now a spectacular blaze of colour.

My balcony has an easterly aspect, and so receives direct sun for about 50% of the day. All of my plants were grown in planter boxes containing fresh Debco Premium potting mix. One shouldn’t recycle old potting mix (there’s a risk of pathogen spread) and buying cheaper products that don’t meet the Australian Standard will lead to disappointment.

The first of my three seedling species to flower were the pansies. I bought an extremely cheap punnet of mixed colours from Bunning’s Warehouse but as it happened, the buds only emerged with either pale blue or white. Whilst it looks lovely, it wasn’t what I had in mind!

Pansies grow to about 20 centimetres in height and width. The key to keeping them looking good (and producing more blooms) is to remove any spent flowers as soon as they’re spotted. That way, the plant will be encouraged to produce more blooms and there won’t be a visual blemish from withered flowers.

The most spectacular of my blooms are the cinerarias, although these were the last to emerge. Unlike pansies which constantly produce new flowers, cinerarias develop one large inflorescence of blooms which are available in white through to pinks, purples and blues. Just as I did for the pansies, I bought a cheap punnet of mixed seedlings and got blues and pinks.

My cinerarias stand about 30 centimetres high and look stunning. Unfortunately they proved to be extremely popular with a range of caterpillar species and whilst I chose to physically remove the caterpillars (with a limited degree of success), the best remedy for them is actually an application of Dipel®. This is an organic product  containing the bacterium Bacillus thuringiensis which is poisonous only to caterpillars, so it provides an excellent natural remedy that doesn’t rely on chemicals or harm anything else.

Fortunately the caterpillars have left the flowers well alone. The blooms are now so large that the leaves are difficult to see anyway. That said, I can see a lot of caterpillar poo on the pavement below, so there must be more of them in there somewhere!

Perhaps the most delicate but plentiful blooms I have enjoyed are those of the primulas. Primulas are normally available in pinks and white, but I chose a selection of all-white seedlings which I felt would compliment the bright colours of the pansies and cinerarias.

Primula malacoides produces upright inflorescences containing whorls of small blooms in horizontal arrays. Each plant has foliage to about 15cm in height and flowers to 30cm with each plant producing multiple inflorescences. Planted in a cluster, they look amazing with a gentle breeze blowing through them!

In addition to my bedding annuals, I also have some dwarf cyclamen growing. I especially like this fiery red one:

Along with my green rose (now in a semi-dormant state), azaleas, cycad and various species of Thomasia, my balcony is quite a sight to see. Whilst it is very tempting to put up a photo of the whole display, I shall refrain for privacy reasons but I can say that I have seen numerous people stop and admire the plants, which is immensely satisfying.

Satisfying too is being able to sit at my table and look across at the colourful display with a latte in one hand and book in the other. But only if the winter weather is warm enough!

When these plants have finished in September, it will be time to plant my summer annuals. I am unsure what I will choose for this year but I have plenty of time to think about that.

A key portion of Bacchus Marsh‘s famous ‘Avenue of Honour’ is under direct threat if VicRoads proceeds with a plan to add a round-a-bout at the intersection of Woolpack and Bacchus Marsh Roads.

The historic boulevard, which commemorates the town’s war dead, was planted in 1918 and consists of 312 trees and 3.3 kilometres of road. Between 10 and 12 trees will be removed under the proposal.

The trees are Dutch elms (Ulmus ×hollandica), grafted onto either U. procera or U. glabra. Not all of those 312 trees commemorate war dead, but there is a dedicated section which consists of the 1918 plantings. There are some older trees at the town end from a series of plantings in 1880, and a younger section of trees planted in the 1960′s for a road realignment.

The Bacchus Marsh ‘Avenue of Honour’ is one of the oldest and most magnificent in Australia, being the catalyst for similar avenues that emerged in many towns and cities after World War 1.

What’s proposed?

The State Government of Victoria, through VicRoads, has been granted stimulus funding from the Commonwealth Government to re-align the Western Highway around Arthur’s Cutting, which is a particularly steep and dangerous section of road.

According to The Age, the works will also include extending Woolpack Road north to the Western Highway, which will enable motorists to bypass half of the Avenue of Honour from the eastern (or Melbourne) end. The works will include the creation of a four-lane road, and a round-a-bout in the middle of the Avenue, which will see the removal of at least 12 trees and the addition of lighting. The round-a-bout will be of sufficient size to enable B-Double trucks to enter.

The National Trust is particularly concerned about the plans, as is the Shire council. The Trust says that the Avenue is of national significance because of its over-arching canopy, intactness, the curvature in the road and the historical and cultural significance of the plantings. Owing to Dutch Elm Disease, which has decimated European elm plantings, Australia remains as a disease-free refuge, and therefore hosts some of the finest remaining plantings in the world. (You can read the Trust’s full statement here).

The Victorian Heritage Council does not list the Avenue of Honour on the Victorian Heritage Register, but it is listed by the National Trust and the Shire of Moorabool is keen to have it listed on the Register of the National Estate. In 2004, the Shire of Moorabool drafted an extensive Strategic Management Plan for the Avenue, which provides a wealth of information. The full report can be downloaded here.

Unfortunately, there seems to have been considerable secrecy surrounding this project, perhaps because the State Government is aware of the outcry that could materialise? The Avenue of Honour is much-cherished by the people of Bacchus Marsh, and Victoria. The National Trust have complained that neither themselves nor the Returned and Services League (RSL) were consulted about the proposal until November 2009, whereby it was presented as a fait accomplis.

Work is to commence this month, but still there are no maps and illustrations available on the project website. (As an aside, it seems ironic that there are no plans available for this project as part of the Victorian Transport Plan. Is secrecy part of the plan, too?)

The Minister for Planning has the power to ‘call in’ the project, but instead Mr. Madden has exempted it from various planning and environmental checks (source). Part of his justification for exemption is that the project is urgent, and acknowledges that “third parties will not have formal submissions to the planning authority”.

Saving the Avenue of Honour

The experience of driving the length of the Avenue of Honour is unparalleled. On both sides of the road are market gardens and orchards, which can be seen between the tree trunks. Above, the sky is concealed by a deep canopy of leaves. In Autumn, the Avenue is especially magic as the golden colour of the leaves develops. I have taken several international visitors to the Avenue of Honour, and all have been impressed.

In my view, the desecration of a war memorial is a disgrace. But worse still, the prevention of public participation in the planning process is outrageous in a democracy.

I believe that the Western Highway realignment should progress. That section of highway is dangerous and difficult to navigate. However, the widening and extension of Woolpack Road should be put on hold immediatelty until such time as an opportunity for full public consultation is provided, a heritage assessment performed, and an alternative road plan generated.

It has taken 92 years for the Avenue of Honour to become what it is. I certainly hope this plan is abandoned, because any damage that’s done now will take another 92 years to repair. And if that’s the case, most of us won’t be here to appreciate it.

Whenever I travel around Australia or abroad, I like to visit local gardens. For a visitor, a garden can say a lot about a community. The community’s past and present economic fortunes, climate, and appreciation for their city or town are all represented in the gardens they create and maintain.

So I can only conclude that the people of Mount Gambier in South Australia have an easy-going nature and a great sense of humour, because it was there that I recently visited the most peculiar garden I have ever seen in my life: The Umpherston Sinkhole.

Yes, even its name is odd.

But the name is very fitting for a garden that made me laugh at its sheer absurdity and fall in love with its beauty and novelty.

What is the Umpherston Sinkhole?

The Umpherston Sinkhole is named after James Umpherston, who established the garden in 1884. Umpherston purchased a farm property in Mount Gambier in 1864 which contained a large sinkhole (or cave remnant).

Thousands of years ago, the sinkhole had been a cave that had formed because parts of the Mount Gambier limestone had been dissolved. When the top of the cave chamber eventually collapsed, a large open pit (called a sinkhole) was formed. The Mount Gambier district has hundreds of such caves and sinkholes; there are even some in the city centre!

Umpherston used the sinkhole on his property as the basis for his garden, which he named “The Caves”.

Being retired, Umpherson wanted to create for the people of Mount Gambier “a pleasant resort in the heat of summer”. So he set to work clearing the existing vegetation off his property and from within the sinkhole. He carved a path in the side of the rock and erected a set of wooden steps so people could comfortably enter his sunken garden, which he planted with all sorts of ferns, shrubs and flowers.

The garden was an immediate success and became quite famous. People from Mount Gambier and surrounding districts would frequently come and visit. The sinkhole originally had a lake within, and Umpherston even organised boat rides for interested people.

James Umpherston died in 1900, and his garden fell into disrepair in the following years. In 1949, the South Australian Woods and Forests Department purchased the property and established sawmills nearby. As the water table dropped as a result of agricultural activity, the lake disappeared.

By 1976, the garden was nothing more than a ruin and a rubbish dump. It was at this time that staff from the Woods and Forests Department decided to restore Umpherston’s legacy.  Slowly, they removed the rubbish and cleared the weeds. Umpherston’s terraces were still there, and so the staff restored them and planted hydrangeas and other species along each row.

Once again, the garden was a hit with the people of Mount Gambier. In 1994, the South Australian Forestry Corporation (as the Woods and Forests Department had become known) handed the garden over to the City of Mount Gambier, and in 1995, the garden was added to the South Australian Heritage Register.

Visiting the Sinkhole

Visiting the sinkhole is a unique experience. A long ramp provides the initial entry point, which is followed by a set of enclosed steps. It is from here that the first real view of the Umpherston Sinkhole can be seen – and what a view! Being barely a third the way into the sinkhole, it provides a great overview of the entire garden, which beckons below. The sinkhole is round, and from here one can see the various terraces in the garden.

One then descends to the sinkhole floor, where hydrangeas and tree-ferns greet the visitor. The sinkhole ‘walls’ are garnished with a ‘wallpaper’ of hanging ivy, which partially conceals the jagged rocks that surround the garden. Whilst there’s no longer a lake, there is a fountain that operates periodically.

Wandering the terraces offered many different vantage points to appreciate the garden. Children also seemed to enjoy running across the terraces, and it made an excellent location for them to enjoy a game of ‘hide-and-seek’.

After Sunset

As dusk approached, I noticed more and more locals arriving with bags of bread or fruit, and torches as the garden became illuminated. Initially curious, I soon realised what it was all for. Each night, several dozen possums emerge from the shrubs and rock crevices and each night, the locals take food for the possums in the garden.

Everyone seemed to be having a great time hunting for possums with torches, and watching them eat the food provided. Of course, having been so well fed, the possums had become quite particular about what they would and wouldn’t eat!

Umpherston’s Legacy

One one level, this really is the most ridiculous garden I have ever seen. Viewing it with 21st-century eyes, one can only be surprised at this horticultural folly and quite reasonably ask ‘How could anyone ‘destroy’ such a natural wonder, and turn it into this garish pleasure garden?”.

But this isn’t a 21st-century garden. It’s a 19th-century garden, created in a period before conservation laws existed. And perhaps we should be grateful that such laws didn’t exist, or we’d have been deprived of such a wonderful public space.

As a person with horticultural qualifications, I readily acknowledge that this garden lacks botanical interest. There’s nothing particularly special or eye-catching about the common mop-top hydrangeas (Hydrangea macrophylla cv.), tree ferns (Dicksonia antarctica) and ivy (Hedera helix) that dominate the plantings in this garden. But seeing them used in such a creative manner and in such a unique context makes this a most desirable garden to visit.

So what does this garden say about Mount Gambier? This garden showed, above all else, that it is cherished by the people of South Australia’s second-largest city.

Watching parents take their small children along (as their parents had done for them) was a delight, especially given how much the children enjoyed the garden. Teenagers were appreciating the garden too, as were some elderly residents that came out just to see the possums. Tourists from Asia and Europe were astounded at the novelty of the garden and were taking plenty of digital photos to show their relatives back home.

There are few places that will bring all of the diverse sections of a community together, but the Umpherston Sinkhole does just that.

Surely, as James Umpherston looks down from above, he’d be delighted to see that his garden is still enthralling the people of Mount Gambier, 120 years after its creation. As he’s hoped, it is a most special place indeed.

Getting there: The Umpherston Sinkhole is located on the Jubilee Highway East in Mount Gambier, South Australia. Entry is free, and the garden is open from 6am to 1am daily.

I was browsing through my photo album today when I discovered an old photo that I’d shot on film back in 1999.

The photograph was of a topiarised specimen of Chamaecyparis lawsoniana, which I Christened the “Happy Conifer“.

The shrub grew in the the front garden of a house in Vermont South. Seeing it again, a smile immediately came to my face, not just because of its appearance, but because of the story that lay behind the Happy Conifer’s creation.

^{The Happy Conifer in Danielle Court, Vermont South. Photographed by the author in 1999.}

As you can see from the photograph, the conifer had been clipped into a lovely big face, complete with bristling big eyebrows. Standing on the corner of two streets, it almost appeared to have a personality of its own.

Despite its jovial appearance, it is the story behind this topiary’s creation that I find most interesting. For the Happy Conifer was in fact a happy accident of sorts.

The owner of this property (whom I don’t know personally) appeared to be very keen on growing conifers. In fact, his entire garden consisted of hundreds of different species, all beautifully trimmed into neat shapes. Sometimes I would see the owner trimming his plants, standing atop a trestle that he’d especially erected for the purpose.

Clearly, I was not the only person who’d noticed his dedication to horticultural art, because someone with a more devious motive made a decision to do some topiary of their own.

The Happy Conifer is Born.

One Sunday morning when I was passing by, I noticed there’d been a sudden change in the landscape.

Maybe it was drunken Saturday-night prank? Maybe it was just a dare or an act of coniferous jealousy? Whatever it was, I quickly noticed that someone had passed-by under the cover of darkness and hacked a giant face into the conifer. Appreciating the effort that went into this garden, I felt somewhat sorry for that poor man who spent all the time clipping his plants. Yet at the same time, I have to admit to being somewhat amused because it really did look funny.

I was expecting that the gardener would probably let the face ‘grow out’ and write it off as a nasty act of vandalism. But instead, it seems he may have been amused too because rather than disappearing, the face underwent some ‘plastic surgery’ over the next few years. Slowly it was transformed from a few crude shapes into a piece of sculpture!

Obviously, I was not the only resident curious to watch the transformation. Another local resident went to the trouble of submitting a photo to the Burke’s Backyard magazine in 1998. Norma Shaw’s image, reproduced below, clearly shows the Happy Conifer during its transitive years.

^{A photograph of the Happy Conifer by Norma Shaw,which appeared in Burke’s Backyard magazine in 1998.}

After many many years of amusing Vermont South residents, the Happy Conifer met its demise not too long ago, in a storm. It has since been removed. Having myself moved away from the area, I have no idea whether the same people still live in that house in Danielle Court,  Vermont South.

Nevertheless, having brought a smile to my face, I thought it only reasonable to spread the joy to others; the sort of joy that only a shrub with a face can provide.