Early November, the height of the Southern hemisphere’s Springtime, is equivalent [approximately] to May-June in the Northern hemisphere and how beautiful it has been this year. The warm Summer and Autumn, the wet Winter and early Spring have delighted the Rhododendrons, the Camellias, the ornamental shrubs and trees and even the conifers have grown three feet closer to the heavens.

I will not think about the cutting back and shifting of plants that will be on our work schedule come Autumn time. I will also try my best to keep the weeds and “thugs” under control. I guess these last mentioned will gain the upper hand, they always do, so let the forget-me-nots that creep through many of our borders have their days of glory.

I can always prevaricate and hope their all-embracing dance is smothering some of the less attractive undesirables.

We will have had five Garden Clubs come and visit us by the end of November. The effect of these visits, which I enjoy immensely, is to keep us on our toes. Yes, we have to keep the grass mowed, the borders trimmed, the flowers deadheaded, the soil composted, but we are more than compensated by the sharing of knowledge, the feeling of delight and joy that is passed on to us by our guests.

As I grow older, my memory for plant names is becoming a little dim, my brain is lazy and takes too much time to come up with the botanical names. Mind you, instant amnesia is the curse of most gardeners when they open their garden gates! But I am most grateful for the knowledgeable visitor who can refresh my mind again.

I am showing you many photographs this month. The saying “A picture is worth a thousand words” is only partially true. I cannot give you the pleasure of smelling the perfumes which so many of the Rhododendrons (especially the whites) gladden my senses by my amateurish snaps.

I can’t sit you on one of our five rustic garden seats [first wiping the peacocks’s, er, gifts off] and allow the peace [ignore the peacocks’ shrieks] and romance of our gardens become part of you. I am unable to send you the delightful bird songs from the numerous native birds that are inhabiting our garden in ever-increasing numbers.

I am unable to give you gifts of seedlings and cuttings, even though I am convinced that the sharing and generous gardener will be repaid thousand times over.