Well, it had to happen. The chill that makes lovely autumn colours has arrived. It also makes me shiver as I face another winter. Funny thing is, this summer, for the first time I can remember, I couldn't cope with the heat. It was humid. What's with that? I mean, if I was a daylily, I guess I'd be happy. But we're not meant to be humid here. No one consulted me. 
Thankfully, autumn is still my favourite season. Some of the things that really light me up this time of year are Nerines. 
Ah, well... mid-spring has actually been and gone! I didn't get round to posting any pics, and found I had taken only a few very lack-lustre images. But in the spirit of continuing the year I want to catalogue, here's a belated mid-spring.
Actually, there isn't much variety in natives flowering on this little block of land at the time. The yellow pea flowers continue and Dodonaea viscosa quietly does its thing... except its thing is really the beauty of the seed pods later, not the tiny greenish blooms now.
One thing that does make its presence felt is Goodenia ovata. It grows in masses along our road verge, turning it yellow during mid-spring.
Our mystery pea-flower in full bloom:
Goodenia ovata:
Ahhh Spring... you adorable loon. All temperance and sunshine and blue sky and ...ooohh, just let me hold you like this foreverrrrrrrr.... *happy sigh*. Then. Arrrrrrrrrgh! Ima bury you under Antarctica!!! Ima grind your bones into frost dust and powder and blow you to Tierra del Fuego! Your presence on this earth is an abomination! I shall scour the planet free of your pestilence! mwhahahahahahah! Take wind! And water! And Ice! And more wind! And , ummm, neck-deep puddles! And errr... birdsong and sleepy bumblebees and - oooh! Look! Rainbows and unicorns! Damn you Spring. Get a grip.
Pea flowers. If there were ever a ubiquitous floral colour and form in our natives, it would be yellow pea flowers. They're everywhere. Especially now.
Pultenaea juniperina
Daviesia ulicifolia
Yellow-pea-flowerus-thingamyi....
Bossiaea species, I think? Maybe? Which one? Who knows!
There's significantly more daylight now; the plants and animals know it. Our native bushland lights up with blooming silver wattle, Acacia dealbata. We call it wattle season, and for anyone allergic to it, the golden hills and heavy honey scent, signal annual hayfever misery. Still others despise it for being so ready to fall over in a strong wind. I call it an environmental service to other species that benefit from the newly opened space, decay, shelter and improved soil. Can't please everyone. :D
Anyway, silver wattle is named for the silvery foliage and bark, not the puffy golden flowers. Depending on habitat it can range from a medium-large, sparse shrubby thing (where it's too dry and sunny) to a stately tall tree with a long, clean silver-blue trunk (growing closely in moist, shaded, cool conditions). The timber is beautiful!
I'd like to document our year in pictures of our local flora, so I hope that this will be the first of a series of botanical portraits.
Both beginning and end of our floristic cycle is marked by Epacris impressa. This prickly plant is a bright light during the short days! It has natural variants in pink, red and white, but the pink pictured here is most common. It's a low-growing heath.
