Hello, I’m Cass. An ex-midwife and nurse, mother and enthusiastic everyday gardener from Victoria, Australia. Gardening means something different to everyone, so here I share my gardening stories, and would love to hear yours too!
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It’s the last day of summer here in the southern hemisphere if you follow the meteorological seasons. But if you go by the astrological calendar, summer still has a few more weeks, ending with the March equinox on the 20th.
I find it interesting how we measure time and change. I think our bodies feel the shift more than we count it.
I can sense it already.
The evenings are darker earlier, the air is cooling slightly (I pulled out a jumper this week), and the mozzies are out earlier on our walks. The dogs still want to go out walking at 8 pm, but the streetlights are on by the time we get home.
There’s a quiet knowing in the air that the season is changing.
I always get reflective at this time of year. Maybe it’s because my birthday is in March, or perhaps it’s just how the season encourages me to turn inwards. Looking back, I’ve made some of my biggest life decisions in autumn. I’ve moved jobs, ended relationships, started new ones, launched projects, and changed direction. There’s something about this time of year that makes space for change. The cooler air, the golden light, the slow winding down of summer’s intensity.
In the garden, it’s my favourite season. The weather is gentler, the shadows are longer, and it’s time to take stock. There’s something satisfying about cutting things back, tidying up, and preparing for the next phase. I feel like I move emotions through my body when I do this work in the garden. Pruning, clearing, and reshaping help me make sense of what’s happening in my life, too.
I’ve never formally marked the change of seasons, but I’ve been thinking about how I’d like to. Some people celebrate the equinox with gatherings or rituals. I wonder if something simple, like a quiet moment in the garden reflecting on the season just passed, could be just as meaningful.
It’s so easy to rush from one thing to the next without stopping to take it in, especially in the garden where there is always something to do.
Maybe keeping a garden journal is the answer? A way to slow down and notice what worked, what didn’t, and what changed. I usually scroll through my phone for reminders, but there’s something about writing it down that makes it feel more real.
So, with that in mind, I thought I’d take quick stock and look back over what I got up to in my garden, summer 24-25.
Capsicum harvests – my best year yet. Overwintering them instead of starting from seed made all the difference.
First echinacea blooms – pink, then white. I’ve wanted them in the veggie patch for years.
Jo Ferguson’s garden – spent two magical evenings there. Life-changing. More on that in this piece.
Bumper blueberry season – my DIY netting was the game-changer. I used an old Aldi greenhouse frame with netting and cable ties. It worked a treat. Only one blackbird got in.
Sedum explosion – I divided a few plants in the winter and spread them around the garden. This summer, they rewarded me with lots of stalks, which are now puffs of pink clouds.
Hibiscus in full bloom – grown from seed and now three years old. There’s a great story about these four trees that is coming soon.
Leucodendron lessons – last year, I learned when to cut them back. This year, they rewarded me with flowers.
Billy buttons and everlasting daisies – added them to the beds for more colour.
Herb pots moved closer to the back door – made all the difference. Now, we use them more, especially on steak night.
Tomato trials – a mixed year. The store-bought seedlings struggled, likely a virus. But black cherry tomatoes were still the favourite.
Bruschetta breakthrough – my son, who lived on cheese toasties (jokes), started picking basil and tomatoes for his own bruschetta. A small but mighty victory.
More blue-banded bees than ever – I think they loved the salvias I planted by the front door. Leaving the house always involved stopping to look for bees.
Compost pumpkins gone wild – they have taken over the fence. Spotted the first tiny fruit today. Must check in the morning for pollination.
Pot pond creation - Inspired by Chloe Thomson from Bean There Dug That, my daughter and I created this pot pond as a shared project. It sits by our front door, and guess what? The unplanned feature of the pond is that my dog, Muffin, thinks it’s the best water bowl and jumps up and drinks out of it when she’s finished her walk!
Garden community love – this summer, more than any other, I have felt the connection. Through Instagram, Substack, and in-person chats, I have realised how special and generous plant people are.
Looking at this list, I realise it’s not just about what I grew in my garden. It is about what I learned, what I noticed, and whom I connected with.
Gardening is never just about the plants. It’s also about the way we grow alongside them.
Do you keep a garden journal?
Or mark the changing seasons in some way? I’d love to hear about it.
Because more and more, I realise that gardening is about pausing, noticing, and being present with the changing light, the shifting air, and the rhythm of the seasons.
And that is something worth marking.
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Thank you for the inspiration! I hope to be able to plant out my vegetable garden soon. Just waiting for the hot over here in Western Australia to die off. It’s been too hot for too long.
Thank you for the inspiration! I hope to be able to plant out my vegetable garden soon. Just waiting for the hot over here in Western Australia to die off. It’s been too hot for too long.