For me late summer in the Gippy Garden is the time of year when a bit of Melancholy creeps in. Growth is slowing, a few less butterflies are visiting and the changing of the seasons has not yet arrived.
Buzzing heat drives me out of the garden only to see me creep back at twilight to get my hands in the still baking dirt. The shrill song of the cicadas gives over to the intermittent mournful chirp of crickets on hot still nights. It’s an in-between time tinged with a little sadness.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d miss a Southern Australian summer if I didn’t have one. After all, it’s also filled with watermelon, forever afternoons and walking barefoot in the garden.
I Know I can’t imagine what it would be like to be snowed in for days on end or to wonder if any of my plants have survived the biting cold.
It just that it puts me in mind of the passing of time.