In the garden

While living in Sweden, all I had to offer plants was a balcony and windowsills, not the best environment for growing. Something that I was looking forward to when we returned to Australia was the ground that would be free for me to use for whatever greenery I wanted. Images of cascading nasturtiums, tomato plants weighed down by fruit, natives adding colour and food for bees. 

Now, about 2 months after being back, these plans are underway. An aspect of gardening that I hadn’t considered properly was patience. A watched seed doesn’t sprout. 
I expected the sun and earthy vibrancy of Austalia to launch the little seedlings into life, growing obediently up trellises and across rocks. 

Plants need time, and at least in the case of snap peas, someone willing to encourage them daily to grow up the trellises I carefully made for them. 


The little reaching trendrils twist in the air, around themselves into tiny fists, and sometimes around the poles and other tendrils, going sideways and upwards. Every day a branch extends out into midair, and is poked back, tendrils twisted around the trellises with the hope that this time it’ll cling on. 

In the shade of the peas the thyme seedlings slowly grow. Getting less and less light as the peas grow, I’ll have to move them soon, before they’re completely covered.
Behind the pea trellises dwarf beans are shooting out of the soil, encouraged by the sun and rain this week, growing at about a cm a day. At this rate they’ll be climbing the back fence in a couple of weeks, and maybe even giving me some return for dinner and snacks.

Rocket plants taken from my mum’s garden have also been heading upwards fast, and are now collapsing under their own weight, hopefully ready to seed and start again. A salad for the warmer week ahead is waiting in their thick leaves.

Elsewhere zinnias and lavender grow, providing for the bees and birds that hover around. Nasturtium shrubs, planted many weeks ago, are clinging on in the rocky, sandy soil, new leaves showing that they haven’t given up yet, though it’ll be sometime before they spread uncontrolled over the rockery, bright flowers blooming.

By the protection of the house, geraldton wax and red leschenaultia slowly thrive, their hardy and vibrant flowers very typical of the dry, harsh but giving conditions of the south west. A boronia bush waits to spread, strawberry seedlings hold in their fruit and a native berry bush grows up towards the light.

There is greenery, colour and in the future fruit, but like settling in to your old home and life, it takes time.

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The wheel of the seasons

During the past 3 weeks I have been to more bbqs than I would usually go to in a year, and incidentally, have eaten more sausages than I would usually eat in 6 months. This grilling frenzy isn’t limited to our household either; it seems to have infected the whole of Göteborg.
And what is responsible for this strange happenstance? Spring.

One of many

One of many

The last two weekends have been clear and sunny, and every place where grass grows has been covered in Swedes, from parks, the sides of canals, gardens and conveniently placed deckchairs. Many people are chatting with friends, some eating, but for the most part people are just basking in the sun. Though I come from a place that is known for sunny weather, I have never really enjoyed it as much as I have these past few weeks. Now I can bask happily, making up for the months of cloud, rain and fog, and hope to gather in enough heat to last before the wheel turns to winter.

A scampering squirrel

A scampering squirrel

I have also been able to understand the meaning of the seasons since I have been here. In Australia we follow the European seasons; Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring. As my homeland lies in the southern hemisphere the seasons are precisely flipped, so that Summer is Winter, and Autumn is Spring, etc… This isn’t the only difference that I have found however. While the march of the seasons is recognisable, in Australia it isn’t anything like the changing seasons in Europe. Not only rain and encroaching chill in Autumn and snow in Winter, but Spring… Well, it’s as though an enormous bucket of colour was spilt over the country. Trees that only a month ago were bare and stragledy are now heavy with light green leaves, and flowers of all colours and sprouting between trees, in pots and all over whatever grassy area they can find.

An Easter daffodil

An Easter daffodil

First came the snow drops, tiny white bell-shaped flowers on the sides of footpaths and under trees. Next were stands of daffodils, then tulips popped up in gardens, mostly red and yellow. Most recent are the cherry trees and apple trees covered in masses of pink and white flowers, whose petals litter the city. I don’t know what will be next, but I’m looking forward to roses, especially in Trädgårdsföreningen.

Wildflowers

Wildflowers

In addition to the opportunity for bbqs, the changing seasons also bring festive days. As with Jul, Easter is celebrated in Australia, but as with Jul I know understand Easter much better. When you’ve only experienced the slow cooling of Summer to Autumn, and the only rebirth around is the sudden rise in chocolate sales, I don’t think I ever truly understood Easter. Having lived through the end of Winter and watched green return I now know why there is a festival of rebirth at that time of year. I also better understand the excitement of the 1st of May. One festival that I hadn’t really been aware of was last Wednesday, the 30th of April; Valborg.

Kanelbullar in Haga

Kanelbullar in Haga

I had been confused about the name of the day and then continued to confuse Swedes by asking what it meant. Mostly I got blank faces, and someone realising that it was his fathers birthday and rushing off to call him, until someone brought out their smart phone. It would seem that it has something to do with Saint Valborg, and for some reason students wearing white hats. Valborg seemed to me a strange name, but what do I know about Scandinavian names. I’m still not convinced about Knut for example.
Then the bbq continued and I forgot about strange names, and missed the Chalmers University parade (featuring Putin, North Korea and Ryan Air – they are students after all) and the bonfires that were burning throughout the country.

The next morning I woke up and thought I’d do a bit of blogging, and looked up Valborg. Like every other northern-European festival it can be traced way back to pagan traditions. It used to be called Walpurgis (and probably still is in some places) and was a celebration of the change from Winter to Spring, as well as the time when the barrier between the world of the dead and the world of the living was at its weakest. It then transformed into a celebration of the saint (coincidentally with a similar name) and her power over witches and representatives of the old religions. Now only the bonfires, traditional songs and parades remain, a link that has been altered but not broken since before written memory.

Dusk in the forest

Dusk in the forest

Another wonderfully Swedish day was yesterday, the 1st of May. Not only was it the first day of Spring but it was the Swedish equivalent of Labour Day. All over the country crowds gathered in squares to protest. Protest against what, you ask? That seemed to depend which party you’re inclined towards. As I was at a bbq (of course) I didn’t see any of them but I did hear that the Social Democrats were supporting the change to a 6 hour work-day and the Feminist Initiative were protesting against racism. It also explained why our bbq spot was so very quiet – on such a fine day only traditional festivities could pull Swedes away from picnics and basking in the sun.

Picnic by a lake

Picnic by a lake

As I write, the sun is shining, the wind of blowing, and teenage girls are screaming on the ride at the recently re-opened Liseberg. Spring has arrived, and the country has come alive again.