Gardens of WA: This column isn't exactly about the gardens, it is about the people behind them

West Australian

4 days ago

I started writing this column in May 2022. It was my first real journalism gig and, after too many years in academia, getting to talk about something as enjoyable as gardening felt like I was cheating at life. Three years on, it still hasn't gotten old. Unfortunately, I have! Ok, not old exactly, just pregnant, and in need of a long nap!
The period of my life that I have spent writing this column coincides perfectly with the period of life during which my husband and I decided to start a family. With only one kid under our belts, and with my husband's endless support, I was able to keep this column going.
This time around, with a toddler and a newborn headed our way this winter, I have decided to be a bit more sensible and will be ducking out for the next 12 months to enjoy my little family. So today, as my final article (for now), I want to take a moment to reflect on the past three years, and the 150-plus gardens I have had the pleasure of visiting.
What is a WA garden, exactly? Our gardens occupy so many wide and varied styles, it's hard to say what ties them together. It certainly isn't a single aesthetic. I have visited gardens that overflow with cottage perennials, shady jungles filled with blooming clivias, potted gardens curated by impassioned collectors, each pot planted with some rare and unique species.
I have been to gardens of carnivorous plants, Mediterranean gardens, edible gardens, permaculture gardens, bamboo gardens, native gardens, community gardens. I have been to cafe gardens, ex-golf course gardens, florists' gardens, and arboretums. What can one possibly say to sum up all of the passion, joy and creativity that has inspired these green spaces? I've summed it up with the following.
If you are a Perth gardener, you are stoic; an optimist — perhaps to the point of foolhardiness — who refuses to flinch in the face of our extreme environment.
You are gardening in one of the world's toughest climates, on soil that hasn't seen a whiff of clay or animal manure in millennia. You are someone who holds on to hope through our February heatwaves, through autumns that refuse to rain, through shot-hole borer infestations and in a State that seems to have not yet learned the value of protecting our trees. You are — in short — a visionary. You know how hard it is to garden on our salty coast, and you do it anyway.
This column is called Gardens of WA but — truly — it isn't exactly about the gardens. It is about the people behind them.
The people who build them, who love them and nurture them, against the odds. These are the people who have inspired and taught me for three years now, and I can't wait to be back next year, knocking down their doors, and sharing what I discover.
In the meantime, if you want to stay in touch, find me on Instagram at @gardeningwithcaseyjoy.