The blonde beauties of the plant world

Chinchilla gums are a new species for me, and a strikingly beautiful tree to add to my knowledge of Australian vegetation. It's the stunning blonde of the eucalypts, with a slim, straight, silvery-white trunk and compact crown.

The Chinchilla gum reminds me of lemon-scented gums (which are native to this part of outback Queensland) and the three trees we grew from seed and planted here in Mitchell. You will see from the photograph that the trees have suffered severe frost damage this year, but they will recover. Eventually, lemon-scented gums grow tall enough to withstand frost.

We nursed our three lemon-scented gums through the frosts this year using aluminium foil wrapped around their trunks, seaweed spray on their foliage and a tarp draped over the smallest. It's been a particularly bad year for frosts, with many -6°C nights, and even now, on 11 September we're having a run of below zero temperatures.

Chinchilla gums, on the other hand, resist frosts even from a very young age. For this reason, Chinchilla gums are better suited to the climate here beside the river in Mitchell, and as a consequence, we've placed an order for three young trees.

I like to look ahead. I like to imagine our trees in 50 years time giving pleasure to whoever lives here on this piece of earth, in Mitchell. After all, we're enjoying the bottle trees, callistemons, silky oaks and eucalypts that others planted for us to enjoy.

Trees pulse with life, vitality and beauty -- they offer inspiration to all of us who love them.

'My' mulberry tree by the river is in resting mode

'My' mulberry tree, growing alongside the bridge that spans the Maranoa River at Mitchell, has lapsed into dormancy, as a result of a series of severe frosts. A few shrivelled brown leaves (attached to bare branches) are all that remain.

For me, this tree is a true example of the abundance of Nature. When winter turns into spring, the tree will bud, grow large hearted-shaped leaves, and then give generously of itself with an abundant crop of delicious black mulberries. Every evening, Major and I walk past the mulberry tree and often we pause, thinking of juicy fruit. Major enjoys eating mulberries too, especially when they are black and sweet.

But for now the tree is resting, tranquil in its setting alongside the Maranoa River in outback Queensland.

Like a sedative, rain falls in outback Queensland

After the harshness of repeated frosts and extreme dryness, soft rain is falling throughout outback Queensland. It's almost as if a light sedative has been sprinkled over the land; softening the vegetation, yet at the same time heightening the colour of red dirt and green foliage.

The family of apostle birds (affectionately known as squarkers) that live in our garden here in Mitchell, are happy about the rain. Together they forage for food; together they raise their young; together they protect their territory. Cheerful chatter makes up for their drab plumage. The name -- apostle birds -- came about because these birds usually live in groups of about twelve, like the disciples of Jesus Christ.

'My' willie wagtail is also telling me about the rain, going from window to window and chattering excitedly. Birds give me great pleasure and as I watch their behaviour I find myself learning more and more about their unique place in the web of life that surrounds me in this semi-arid region.

Peach blossom, burst pipes and another severe frost

Another -4.1° C temperature this morning saw a breakage of a tap in our backyard, causing a geyser-like spout of water, which a neighbour alerted us to. Fortunately Doug is able to fix things, so within one hour the tap was replaced and the water turned on again.

The mulberry tree growing beside the Maranoa River is now completely devoid of leaves, yet this afternoon I picked an armful of peach blossom from a tree growing in the bush beside the river.

My guess is that a peach branch got caught up in flood water upstream of Mitchell (outback Queensland) and ended up lodged in the bank, where it grew into a tree. This tree produces peaches every summer, but the fruit ends up spoiled by fruit fly.

Frost: the case of the survival of the fittest

There's something very cleansing about of frost, especially six in a row. This sequence has occurred in Mitchell over the past week, with -4.9°C yesterday and -4.2°C this morning. The weather bureau predicts at least two more frosts this week. I like to think of the below 0°C temperatures sterilising the soil, killing parasites, bacteria and many of the pests that attack garden plants and pastures grazed by sheep and cattle.

This morning, Major licked and then nose-butted a sheet of 10 mm thick ice that had formed in his water bowl. And then, in the joy of the moment, he grabbed a chunk of ice in his mouth and bounded across the frosted grass, challenging Del to chase him. Which she did!

On my walk this afternoon, the grass was brittle dry and crunched underfoot. The earth was so dry, every step raised a little puff of dust.

Here in outback Queensland I have succulents that are remarkably hardy. They survive frost and extreme dryness throughout winter; and then during summer, rain and extreme heat. On the other hand, the recent frosts have either killed or badly damaged several plants in our garden, including the geisha girl shown in the photo. Yet, Doug's lettuces, spinach, cabbages and broccoli are thriving.

What I love about frosty mornings in outback Queensland is that they are followed by still sunny days.