We have had yet another storm this afternoon, constant rain, and no sign of the mountain.
This afternoon I stood on my back veranda and took a couple of very uninspiring photos, basically to mark the day as being a bit of a dud, weather wise. I know the garden is lapping up every luscious raindrop though, after being parched for the last few weeks. We are coming into our rainy season, so I suppose I will have to get used to the idea of more rain over the coming months. This time last year we were in the midst of a drought, so this year is a definite improvement. I can cope with the occasional grey photo day – rain is precious.
Today I emptied out some kitchen cupboards, and when husband arrived home we began dismantling the kitchen. It’s the original kitchen from when we built the house in 1994, so it has served us well. Now though, it’s time for a change.
Here is a before photo –
I forgot to take a photo before I emptied the cupboards, but never mind. I have plenty of photos taken in the kitchen over the years to look back on.
After husband removed a few cupboards, this is what we have now –
I can still cook meals on the cooktop, but hopefully – maybe – fingers crossed – I’ll have my new range installed by next week. I think the next job is to repair and paint the wall where the cupboards were removed. I’ll add more photos as the work progresses. 🙂
Somewhere beneath that mass of greyish-white clouds sits the sleeping giant, Mount Warning. I haven’t seen her today at all, but every wondrous landmark needs a break from the limelight once in a while, right? So with the lack of a stunning mountain photo, I’d like to share a few photos I took in my garden yesterday, when the sun shone brightly in the sky and the clouds didn’t get a look in.
This red rose is significant – it’s the first rose to bloom in my garden since last summer. What makes it even more special is that I transplanted three roses about a month ago from where they sat dormant in the garden. I had planted them several years ago under a large deciduous tree, thinking roses would grow well there, but they didn’t. I think they may have had too much competition with the roots of the tree. Also, they were quite a long way from the house, so not as easily accessible for me to tend each day, therefore they were neglected. But look at this beauty now! A blooming rose already, plus there are two more buds preparing to break out. I’m very happy with the success I seem to be having with my roses, and it’s still winter here in Australia.
My mother-in-law poked a couple of cuttings of her white geranium in my garden about five years ago, and they have thrived. Here they are already in bloom too …
… and this dainty gerbera, another plant my mother-in-law gave me years ago is flowering beautifully as well. In my area, gerberas are a flower that seem to be in bloom for most of the year.
I planted a border of alyssum along the full length of one of my garden beds several years ago and most of the plants disappear during the heat of the summer months. Some of the plants resurrected a couple of months ago though after a deluge of rain, and here are the results of my self-sown alyssum.
If only I could tell you the name of this next plant! I remember that it’s an Australian native, and I know it’s been in my garden for a number of years and when the flowers appear they stay in bloom for some time, but that’s the extent of my knowledge. I have an app on my phone to identify plants, so hopefully the rain will have passed by tomorrow and I can give the app a go. I’ll add the name here later if I have any success.
This is another gerbera, and as you can see it’s quite different to the dainty pink gerbera in the photo above. Both of my in-laws have gone into aged care within the past year, and with my husband being an only child we have had the massive task of sorting through their material lives, disposing of things that are no longer needed through either sale, donation or tip runs. My mother-in-law was quite the hoarder and her hoarding habits were not limited to the house either. We have given away massive amounts of pot plants, and what we thought we could use ourselves we brought home. I planted this gerbera not knowing what colour it would be, and although orange is not a colour I usually choose for my garden, it’s an unusual flower and I will always think of it as Irene’s gerbera.
This grevillea is on a small native Australian tree. The flowers disappear during winter, but now I have some young buds reappearing it won’t be long before I have an array of honeyeaters flitting around the branches outside my window.
Last summer I found a small solar powered fountain to put in my bird bath. A few petals blew off my tibbouchina tree the other day when it was windy and landed in the bird bath, so cleaning it out will be a job for tomorrow, weather permitting.
My last photo is the full moon, setting in the western sky the other morning. I have seen photos taken by some lucky photographers who have captured the full moon setting right behind Mount Warning. I’ll have to keep an eye open for the next time that occurs as it would be a beautiful sight to see, and to photograph. 🙂
The Cloud
The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings.

And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardours of rest and of love,
And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbèd maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
~~ Percy Bysshe Shelley.