Looking at this garden, you wouldn’t think that we are in the middle of a draught. This garden was built by a landscape artist, who probably built it more for the aesthetic beauty than its draught hardiness. Unsuitable for Australia, you might think. But this garden makes me think of other cases where willow trees, which were apparently banned in some places across Australia for its water thirsty characteristic, somehow resulted in drawing water towards the area they stood.
I now live in a cottage in this garden, for better or for worse, surrounded by non-native trees and plants. And I would say I’ve never lived in such vibrant atmosphere in the 15 years of living in Australia. (Well, perhaps except for the tropical climate in its wet season… ) Difference in humidity was such that I thought of buying a dehumidifier in the initial period of moving to this cottage, which was only 600metre along the main road from my previous address. The previous place was a large house on a huge grass patch, with the entrance lined with tall native trees. Both an acreage, same post code, similar lifestyle. What is making the atmosphere of these two properties so different from one another? My non-scientific, sentimental explanation is that the mother nature somehow fed it’s artistic child some crayons, and the other child received an empty space for it asked for a lot of space. I would never say this applies anywhere in this country, especially knowing what it looks like out there right now. But if you were looking at the distance between your right hand and left hand, a bit of greenery does, no matter how strange it may seem, appear to bring more life to us.
Greenery is greenery, and what does it mean to be native? For plants or humans? The place looks beautiful.
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