Spring in Melbourne: Truly four seasons in one day. We were promised rain, hail, sleet and possibly plagues of frogs for Grand Final day. Some suburbs got these while the TV showed the players at the MCG running around in the sun. You can enjoy a bath of warm sunshine at the tram stop and then suddenly move into a freezing eddy of wind straight from the snows of Mount Hotham, or be drenched by a passing shower.
It’s then I get out into the garden to try to remove some of the acreage of weeds built up by the winter rain.
Yarraville’s streets were lined with plum trees when our pocket was built some time in the 1950s.
Some of them still survive, black and gnarly, with pink blossoms appearing in September.
Some of the plum trees have been replaced with new ones. These come out with a fresh burst of pink and green.
Another failsafe sign of spring is the appearance of red buds covering the jasmine along our side fence. Then bam, flowering, and the heavy scent. The jasmine will go soon because we have to replace that fence in a month or two; I’ll miss it next year.