Defying gravity

 

Red marker is where I met the hornet

Today, is the first day back at school, for our youngest. Grade 3. Time certainly marches on. So we should do something meaningful with the time we have - wherever we are, and whatever condition we find ourselves in. Presently, I'm grateful to have the full use of my hand back, after a recent injury. So I can finally return to the companion post about dealing with soil erosion, on the front slope. It's a long overdue project, because it's such a tricky slope.

Another gardening year

It's all happening

 

Well hello there 2021. Didn't you come out of nowhere. I made no new-year's resolutions, because I was just happy to have a blank slate! Let me be deluded a little longer. Of no pressing responsibilities. School holidays are in full swing, and the weather has been gloriously perfect. Instead of baking in the summer heat, I've been pottering outside, in what feels like autumn weather. One thing I do know about this year is, I will be gardening. In fact, I couldn't imagine a more perfect way to spend the first day of the year, than in the garden.

Feedback Frenzy

Stay on the designated walkway

 

As I've been mulling over what to share about the garden, on Friday night, we received a downpour. Perhaps the biggest rainfall we've seen since January 2011, when the infamous Queensland floods destroyed the Lockyer Valley. That's nine years of increasingly, smaller amounts of rainfall, and my garden had to cope all that time. Much to my surprise, there are successes when plants survive. However, the soil takes a beating when fast water is on the move again. Especially after drought conditions. This latest event has revealed problems I still need to address. 

How-to Hugelkultur

The subtropical jungle, returns

Perhaps I should say, how NOT to Hugelkulture instead? As these are the lessons I've learned about Hugelkulture in arid climates. Right now, it doesn't seem very arid, since the two-year drought has finally broken. Receiving another 17 mm yesterday. This is wonderful news of course, as it's allowed me to return to planting fruit trees again. But in so doing, I reassessed some areas I used Hugelkultur in. The past two years of drought, taught me a lot about their application.

Back in the swing

Yucca, in flower

In the past three days, we've received 36 mm of rain. Which is the most we've experienced on consecutive days, in around two years. Not counting the rain we received late 2019 and early 2020. Which can only mean one thing. Phenomenal growth in the garden! As my husband wrangles equipment to tackle the lawn, I'm suddenly faced with my old routine with pruning shears. Ready to chop and drop all that material, I've literally been waiting years to grow.

Catching up

Stella's frangipani (a departed friend, whose cutting we cherish)

Hello new year! 2020. I didn't mean to be away this long, but life kind of happened. Like recovering from Christmas, then a stomach bug which took me and our youngest out, for a bit. In early January I pulled my trapezius muscle, from my neck all the way down to my shoulder blade. Typing was not an option. I'm much better now though, and both kids are at school for another year. So like our pink frangipani, life is just blooming along.

The watering hole

Dust-pan

Since all the natural watering holes, in the landscape have dried up, our bird-baths have been working overtime. They're filled twice a day now, to accommodate the visitors. Which is about 18 litres of water, per day. We have the larger bath, for mostly birds and adult kangaroos to drink from. The small one is for Joeys, who have vacated mum's pouch. But not quite large enough, to reach the tall one yet. We've had different configurations over the years.

Edges

The mulberry waits

I haven't done a property post for a while, because it's looking grim out there. Nothing is growing. It's either dead, dying or hanging on for dear life. We didn't know it at the time, but when first moving to our property in 2007, it was at the end of a drought. The rain steadily picked up, year after year, until the massive Statewide flood in 2011. So it's fair to say, ALL our land management practises, revolved around some sort of wet season. But what about the dry?

Creative destruction

Behind the chicken coop - can you see the swale?

If you remember this image, from the "Do nothing" post, I said we were in the midst of making some creative destruction, in this area too. Part of the reason it's overgrown at all, is due to poorly designed access. It was started many moons ago, when we first dug the swale, but never finished properly.

Do nothing

Nature is knocking at the door

Born out of a lack of time, too much land and aspects of weather, I don't always get outside when I need to. Some weeks, months or even years later, I return to particular  locations, and find an overgrown jungle. In the past, this frustrated me. Only because of the thought of having to pull it all out, and starting again.

Compost gully

June 2008 - first bin

When we started composting on our land, we thought a large standing compost bin, was the way to go. The kind with multiple bays. We built three, out of recycled pallets. It was appealing, because we had the opportunity to make a large batch of compost, in one go. Unfortunately, we weren't generating enough of all the different ingredients to make a substantial batch.

Aerial view

2007 - initial front terraces, as the house was under construction

We've been living on our 5 acres of bushland, for twelve years now. Easter, was the anniversary of moving in. Our leap into large-scale gardening, happened to coincide with the cultural celebration, for new life and new beginnings. Easter. Since this cultural celebration, just passed - it was fitting to share an areal view, of what all that Natural Sequence Farming, Permaculture and Natural Succession Gardening, has achieved during that time.

The hand you're dealt

You know how at Easter, after stuffing yourself silly on chocolate, you swear never again! Until the nausea is forgotten about, and you're back to eating the regular 4 squares of chocolate, a day? Yes, I really do that. The 4 squares, that is. I don't gorge on chocolate at Easter any more though - not like I used to. Yet there are other vices, which still manage to catch me out.

Like doing online research, and learning how to use computer graphics programs, in new and interesting ways! I had a binge session recently, followed by the swearing off technology, until my senses returned. Hence, the sudden silence on the blog front.

But I have stuff to share, you funky people...so let's get to it!

Pitter-patter

Remember this stuff? It's meant to fall from the sky during our summer rainy season. But decided to skip it entirely, and make a late appearance, in autumn instead. I wasn't going to mention the first storm. Or the second. The one with large hail. Ultimately though, I was expecting the storm activity to disappear. Thankfully, it decided to love on our property a while longer, with steady, all day rain.

So that now...

 It's accumulating

...puddles are begging to form in the swales again. This sight always makes me so happy. But after this year, I recognise a swale of itself, is only as useful as the rain falling from the sky. So I look upon it, a little more soberly. Extremely grateful however, we still got a reprieve from the dry.

So now life can slowly begin to emerge around the new water source again.

Sweet cycles

I caught a couple of dragonflies, dancing around the pooling water. Teasing it with their feet and tails, as they dipped in. I had to follow them, up and down the swale. Because their iridescent wings, didn't want to stay still long enough, for my camera to focus in.

This is part of the tantilising orchestra though, which always emerges after the rain settles in. I couldn't resit chasing the dragonflies, in the rain, as it felt like forever - since hearing the delicate whisper of their tiny wings.

 Hello there

The resident kangaroos were feasting on the new greenery, which they had waited for the rain to bring, also. October last year, was the last flush of decent greenery they got to enjoy. Now her gaunt facial features, from the summer drought, are just starting to fill out again. Which also makes me very happy to see.

But again, I reflect soberly. How quickly it can all change.

 Remember these, hugelkultur mounds?

This was mostly dust, not that long ago. The paths are slowest to respond to the moisture, with all that compaction. Yet how quickly the greenery emerges elsewhere, after the rain. I was beginning to wonder if we would see it, before winter came again.

It's still not the kind of rain we're used to dealing with - the reason we built all those swales and ponds to begin with. But we could still feel the soil take a deep breath, it desperately needed.

 Like a sponge

With the dwindling heat of autumn, the moisture still has time to break down the plentiful supply of wood material. I've already seen several blooms of fungi emerge. While hopeful to see at all, it's still not as plentiful as normal years. But really, what is normal nowadays?

The weather patterns are changing, and maybe this is the new normal?

Human ingenuity

Unlike our dry-stone retaining wall, which is pretty permanent and predictable - nature has been fluctuating to more extremes. More heat. More time between drinks. Even more rain when it does fall, which causes more erosion.

Really the jostle is to find some kind of medium, on this ever fluctuating scale of normal. Is drought normal, for this particular 10 year cycle. Or is it, the wet? In the wet, is a great time to get plants established. In the dry, it culls a lot of potentials and breaks your heart.

Like night and day

When everything starts to green up again, the casualties, really begin to stand out. This hardy native, Westringa (right) is cactus now. Yet the Brazilian cherry on the left (also known as Surinam cherry) was able to pull through. Although, the cost was not seeing any fruit flushes, all growing season. There just wasn't the rain to spark that particular event.

Still, it lived. Which cannot be said for some of my other fruit trees.

Bupkis baby

I've lost all my bananas, an avocado, and surprisingly a mulberry tree. These are normally, the most bulletproof edible fruit trees I've come across. This one was planted in the lowest gully, which normally floods. It hasn't happened for well over a year now, but I thought surely this specimen had the best location for survival?

The dry slopes are much less forgiving. Yet the oldest mulberry we have, lives on those very slopes, and managed to pull through.

Original mulberry (centre)

It's extremely sparse on the leaf front, as it's normally covered in leaves. But it's also an older tree by several years, than the one which died recently. It was established in a flood too, so had the opportunity to send it's roots down deeper.

I also credit it's survival, from being planted on the berm of a swale, as well as stacking functions around it. While I think it looked like the flooding gully, was giving the other mulberry more water, it wasn't being held up as much, as the swale was doing, for the surviving mulberry. The directed water in the swale therefore, really encouraged the tree roots to go down deep, in the years we were receiving rain.  

The observation I take from this particular drought, is while water is indeed the crucial factor here, large amounts (passing by) are no indicators of success. It's "directed" water, held back, which really sets up the roots better for extended dry periods. So I need to identify how to concentrate water, when it does fall from the sky, and place my edible trees around it.

 Lush and green again

The clear winner though, has to be the grass. An annual which seeds itself quite readily, is the quickest to respond to water. It all but browns off at the surface, and we never scramble to save it. Yet it completely overtakes the garden, as soon as the rains return.

The heavy seed-heads are bent over, when they're laden with water too. So it carpets the ground, to hold-in more moisture. I know it looks unruly and unkempt, but we hardly scramble to control the grass either. For starters, there's just too much of it, but it also has a vital cycle to perform, setting seed for the next drought. So it can emerge quickly, after the rains return again.

 An early morning, walk in the bush

How do I feel about it all though? Grateful. Sober from the experience. And finally, hopeful in a new directed purpose. Not that swales are the be all, and end all. Especially when it comes to establishing plants (short term) in a drought. Seriously, they're useless when it comes to that! But you've got to cop it all on the chin, and be realistic. This is nature, we're dealing with here. It's not made to please us, or our ideas of what a garden is meant to be. It's there to make us better gardeners, whatever the season.

So set up your infrastructure, regardless, to take advantage of the wet cycles. For me, it's swales and ponds. But be prepared to find the best medium, in the drought cycle too. Whatever that happens to be. We're talking decade investments in a garden for resilience, not annual returns. Although they're always nice to have, and I will always "try" to glean some kind of annual edible harvest. Greenthumb nirvana cannot be based on that premise alone though, or its likely to bring disappointment.

Because annual plants are short lived, and designed to expire quickly anyway. Throw in an extreme event, and they're the first to fail. It's more disappointing for me, when my perennial trees fail. But I've got to cop that on the chin, also. If I choose, I can accept the feedback delivered, and work with it. That's what nature's going to be doing, without me anyway - so why not become a willing student in the process?

I hope your gardens are delivering treasures, whatever they're being subjected to, at the moment. I know we don't always get, how we desire it to be. We can still play the hand we're dealt though, to the best of our ability.

Making tracks

"There’s a track winding back
To an old-fashioned shack
Along the road to Gundagai –" 

Do you recognise this line, from the classic Australian folk song, Along the road to Gundagai? It was made popular during, World War II, when battered Australian soldiers, dreamed of returning home. The lyrics call, to make your way back home again - to family, friends the landscape, and ultimately, the things of your youth.

I guess that's the power of a road, and how to find yourself on one! Which is a rather long introduction, for my first land management post, for 2019. We're making tracks. Literally. Into the bush. For a significant purpose. I will return to that classic Australian folk song, at the end.

 One of these paths, is not like the other

Above, is a Roo Track, made by kangaroos. They're forged over the years, by a multitude of hopping marsupials. It's pretty impressive. However, those tracks are generally narrow, and follow a ridge-line. Consequently, they tend to be steep. Which is great, if you're as agile, as a healthy kangaroo!

Looking into the future though, if we want to use small machines to get about on our property (because of age, or we just need to get equipment up there) it makes sense, to develop better tracks. How do we do that? By working with the contour of the land....

 Going up slope

 

The contour, is essentially the shape of the slope. We wanted to cut a road, around the contour of the slope, rather than straight up it, like a ridge. This creates a gentler gradient for people, animals and machinery to traverse.

We started by raking away the mulch (compliments of nature - thank you!) and used a mattock, to cut into the slope. Then the fill from that cut, got dumped further away from the slope - making a wider track. Old logs and branches were placed at the base, to stop the fill, slowly migrating down hill.

Covered with the mulch again, it looks like it's always been there.

Top of the path

We're still working on the top of the slope, as indicated by the dirt. We'll mulch over it, once satisfied, enough fill has leveled the top. We're not going for plumb level, accurate. Slopes are the nature of the terrain, and we'd be working forever, trying to flatten everything. So the goal, is only to flatten the ruts and any dangerous tipping points, up the top.

Nature helps in this regard as well, by providing the trees we cut down, to stop the fill, migrating down hill. This is how we managed to flatten(ish) the top of the slope, a little more. A large tree trunk was used, to raise the level of the footpath. Not much higher, but enough to make a difference.

Fill, butts against the log

As you can see, we're still working around a lot of living trees too. And I mean, A LOT! Which is how we get so much, free mulch and landscaping logs, in the first place. It's nice, that we don't have to hitch-up the trailer and make a trip into town for these things. Nor, hand over our hard-earned money. We just wander into the bush, with some hand tools, and find what we need.

We're enjoying one of the many pay-offs, for not removing the indigenous plants, willy-nilly. Although it IS harder work, when you want to remove them. But it's far better to work from abundance, than scarcity. Especially in a drought.

   The drop-off

At the very top of our new path, it merges with another, preexisting, Roo track. It goes down into a steep dip, because it's near the end of one of our gullies. Or a natural path of erosion, where the water runs off, in a storm. That water, continues to cut between two slopes - creating a wider and deeper gully.

We're planning on harnessing those windfalls of water, and stopping the erosion. By improving the old Roo track, in the process. We're going to fill in that dip, with more dirt.

Dam wall, joins with new track

We're getting that dirt, by cutting a new pond, back into the gully - up slope. We create the dam wall, by dumping the dirt, lower down hill. I had some good clay in the beginning, but the further I cut into the gully, the more sandy sediment I'm finding. Which is not suitable, for building dam walls.

However, it's perfect for footpaths where quick drainage, is desired. So we hauled that sandy sediment, to the top of our footpath. Now we've improved the gradient up hill, I can migrate clay to the dam wall, from the front of the property, instead. My barrow will have a much easier time of it.

It's a lot of hard work, but also significant work too. I actually started this project, last year. The heat of summer, mostly put an end to it. However, there were a couple of reminders lately, to get cracking again.

Attempting to cool down

Remember this female Joey, that was enjoying the cool dirt, recently? She actually found that patch of dirt, from the footpath I tinkered with. Her presence reminded me, what we do in the landscape, has an impact.

It was the presence of the Roo tracks, which showed us, where to start improving them in the first place. Not on any part of the slope, but where the kangaroos had specifically chosen. We're essentially, following the tracks the kangaroos have laid out. Then, improving them.

But now for some sad news...

Some don't make it

Fret not. This isn't our female Joey, but a male kangaroo. Only about 3 years old, we estimated. In another year, he would have entered his prime - but unfortunately, we think he had a collision with a car. Somehow, he made his way back home. He would have been raised here, by his mother. Which is why we think he returned.

We first saw his injuries, late January, when he was drinking from the birdbath. He couldn't hop, because of an injury to his heel, but he could walk on one foot, with the help of his tail. I don't know how far he walked, but I know I saw him enter our property, from the back - where there are no roads. So he had a long way to travel.

Several days later, in early February - I found him laid out, in the lowest and widest gully on the property. Which normally floods. But not this year. Not for over a year. So we buried him, right next to where he laid. I couldn't help but wonder, afterwards - why here? Why did you walk all that way, to come home - when you could barely even walk?

Life continues

I guess the answer to that question, starts right here - with the next generation of male Joey. I wrote about this little fellow, suddenly appearing, while Growing at Gully Grove. He's about the same age as that female Joey, above. So he's bigger now. I saw them both in the yard, yesterday afternoon, grazing from the grass, watered by our septic.

These Joey's are brought here, by their mothers, because we landscape with them in mind. We keep the plants, improve the tracks and hold back the water. In the wet. As well as in the dry. Which is precisely why, that injured male came home to rest, I guess.

"Then no more will I roam,
When I’m heading right for home
Along the road to Gundagai."

All tracks, lead home

I know it's a little sad, but just like we followed the kangaroo trails, I couldn't help but thank this male, almost at his prime - for reminding me to continue improving those tracks again. For people and animals to use, who may not be in their prime any more.

There's a rhyme and reason, for everything we do here. Always more connections, than what's on the mere surface. Consider a dirt track. After all, it only comes into being, because everything was laid down before it. The water cuts the gully. The kangaroos, mark the trails. The people (at least these two) attempt to build a track, across it.

Are you planning for your not-so-prime years yet? Any great ideas to share? As you can see by this post, we're planning for better accessibility around the property. For us, and the wildlife, we share our story with.

Stacking functions

While permaculture may encompass many different things, what I love about it from a land management perspective, is the intelligent design. It saves effort and resources, if you can align just one element, to do more than one thing! Or to put it another way - stacking functions.

Nothing can demonstrate this better, than a simple Mulberry tree...

Beginning to ripen

This was my breakfast, yesterday morning. I love nothing more than to meander under the mulberry, and pick black fruit, during spring. Those fruit, the birds leave me behind that is! Thankfully, this is a particularly large tree - being the first one we ever planted.

Nonetheless, before the spring rains arrive, causing the leaves to grow and hide all that emerging fruit, the birds always threaten to strip the tree bare. Even before the fruit has a chance to turn black! But somehow this mammoth tree, always manages to offer us (and the birds) a delicious bounty, before all the fruit is gone again.

 At least, 12 metres (40 ft) tall

This tree, is taller than Middle Ridge chicken coop - now my shade house for propagation. If you live in a suburban area, perhaps a tree like this would be better managed (as recommended) by heavy pruning. This encourages more fruiting and allows you to access more of them - rather than the birds.

But this is where stacking functions, and intelligent design enter, for larger acreage. Our problem is too much sun exposure. It dries out the land. So in this instance, I require the tree to reach it's absolute maximum potential. The more it grows, the more it shades. With less moisture lost to evaporation, during the hotter times of the year, I'm getting better water efficiency from what does fall from the sky.

March 2015

The mulberry tree was planted in 2010, and by 2015, I was implementing a new swale behind the mulberry. It's another one of those, stacking functions, concepts. For I needed to irrigate the mulberry, as well as prevent soil erosion. The water formerly ran straight down slope, taking soil with it.

The mulberry became a catalyst to observe, how we could alter the design of the slope for a better outcome. Primarily aimed at reducing soil erosion, and improving water efficiency - a swale became the perfect design element, in this instance. Remember, when dealing with a much larger scale, a tree is not JUST a tree, any more. It's never a lone ranger. Rather, it becomes a catalyst of interconnected functions.

My job is to find as many ways as I can, to assist those links to evolve. So the natural sequences can simply do the rest. Intelligent design, allows you to step back for the most part (eventually) with minor tweaks to assist the process along.

 2016 Addition

I'm always looking for ways to improve the design. Most recently I've incorporated vetiver grass on the side of the swale. Not only to help stabilise it, in large water events, but also to grow mulch I can throw into the swale. It will break down and disperse nutrients, while immediately protecting the soil from sun exposure.

Plant: vetiver grass (1) Functions: dynamic accumulator & soil protection (2). Whenever I prune the vetiver grass, it goes straight into the swale. Over time, this will improve the quality of the soil, feeding the mulberry. Over time, this will increase the quantity (and quality) of fruit which grows.

Changing seasons, for the mulberry

This will be a familiar sight to those in the Northern Hemisphere, at present. Fall. We call it Autumn, in Australia. Whenever the weather turns cooler though, leaves start dropping. Which is no different for the mulberry tree, given it's deciduous nature too. It drops a giant nutrient bomb, every year, on the ground - to help feed the soil.

So the mulberry is a dynamic accumulator, as well as a fruit bearing one. A single tree, with so many functions. I will be happy to list them all at the end.

 My hideaway

This is where I access the mulberry, through all those low hanging branches. I'm actually standing in the swale. I could prune those branches back, making it easier to access - but I prefer the benefit of shade, keeping the soil as moist (and as cool) as possible.

In the heat of the day, under the mulberry is the best place to be. Which is why I recently planted one, up near the permanent chicken coop! Once it gets some size to it (a) the shade will keep the chickens cool (b) keep them protected from wedge tail eagles, flying overhead, and (c) bring a network of bugs to the soil, for them to eat, as well as the bounty of fruit that falls.

Down-side of berm

Back at our most mature mulberry, I have plans to utilise the down slope berm, further. Always evolving this particular design. Because there are so many opportunities to stack functions. At the moment, the lantana downhill is benefiting from the mulberry and swale. Lantana is a weed, we're attempting to remove gradually - as we find something to replace it with.

The very edge of the mulberry's treeline, I hope will be perfect for growing goji berries. I germinated some from seed during winter, and proper placement in this evolving design, could see them bearing fruit successfully, as well.

A tree is not just a tree, on the larger scale. It's potential for expansion, and support for transitional periods - such as I've outlined, in the evolution of our mulberry. Intelligent design, can only continue to evolve. Stacking even more functions together, over time.

Yummy!

Remarkably (if that were not ALREADY enough) a tree can also be valuable medicine. Rich in antioxidants, these mulberries help the immune system fight against infection. My little Mister, is home sick today and wanted strawberries for breakfast. They're all but done for the season, but I had a perfectly productive mulberry tree, just outside. Best to beat the birds to it!

To summarise,a mulberry tree has many stacked functions:

• Dynamic accumulator
• Soil stabiliser
• Earthworks enhancer
• Overhead shade
• Air cooler
• Protection for shrubs
• Livestock guardian & fodder producer
• Fruit bearer
• Medicine

This barely scratches the surface. I haven't even mentioned how trees are natures', original climbing trellis for vines, and also acts as a windbreak for my shade house.

Do you think I should attempt to grow a vine on my mulberry? I was contemplating a passionfruit, but knowing how vigorous those are, they'd cover the goji berries in no time. I don't want to make extra work for myself, keeping the passionfruit in check. Plus I like the fact, the leaves drop in winter, and let the light in. So maybe a deciduous vine?

What are your recommendations/experiences, for a suitable vine under a deciduous tree?

Growing at Gully Grove

One of the things I love the most about living on our property, are the native wildlife. As we've effected the topography - building retaining walls to create flat land, on our slopes: we've seen the emergence of native wildlife, take up residence too. Because as we set the land in place (somewhat like setting a bone) the flora covers it over, like skin next. This flora is food and security, for the native wildlife, who act like the bloodstream - carrying nutrients all over the place.

This cycle of growth, is all connected...

In the dry

So when we experienced the drought recently, it was somewhat heartbreaking, to watch the skin failing, and the animals struggling. Above, is a baby Joey, caught in that particular struggle. The mother kangaroos, have always brought their baby's to our slopes - we've seen these mothers, be raised here, as Joey's. Now attempting to raise their own young. It's a cycle we get to witness, every year.

Slim pickings

They come to our slopes, in search of food to nourish themselves, and their babies. As the Joey's get closer to leaving the pouch however, they train at tasting the grass, that will soon become their diet. In the above photo, the baby Joey has very little food to grab. The grass is not long and lush, like it should be. So they can only grab at a dried-up weed, instead.

It was heartbreaking, to watch those tiny paws reach for something to eat, and only find something dead. I didn't write about it at the time, because it was hard enough to watch, let alone to share. Everything we do at Gully Grove, is to ensure the living systems are connected. But nature always has the final say, and periodic drought, is sometimes part of that conversation.

Thankfully, the heavens opened recently, ensuring this little Joey's future on our slopes was a lot more abundant....

After days of rain

Mama roo was able to find enough food during the drought, to make milk. This is what kept her Joey alive. With the return of rain however, this little girl is getting her fill of grass too. Just like Mama Roo. I'll tell you why it's a girl, at the end. It's similar to how I tell, boy and girl chicks apart.

Not only is she getting her fill of healthy greens now, but she's old enough to venture out of the pouch too.

 This is new?

Another reason, the mothers bring their Joey's to our slopes, is how safe it is for them to venture our of the pouch. We don't keep dogs, although our neighbours do. But between the house and the retaining wall, Mama Roo's can spring-clean their pouches, without worrying their babies will be in danger.

Just checking

Even with all this grass around, Joey's still want their top-up of milk - plus the security that pouch is close by. It's all the security they've known! But it's so funny, watching them leave the pouch for the very first time. They start jumping immediately, and get such a fright by their long legs, they jump straight back into mama's pouch!

We saw her do this, a few days prior. Gradually, she got used to her springy legs though, and began to become more daring in her adventures.

Look at me!

Above the retaining walls, are two intersecting footpaths. They come down either side of the slope, and meet in the middle. Designed for ease of human thoroughfare, they've also been adopted by the annual Joey population, as hopping ramps. Every year, without fail, they leave Mama's pouch, and make what feels to them, a giant hopping adventure - up and down the slopes.

For such wee things, they sure can hop! Faster than we can run.

Back again

At this age though, she's never far from her mother. While traversing the slope above, mum is just down the bottom of the retaining wall. Joey always checks in, to make sure mum hasn't gone anywhere. I'm reminded of human toddlers, who suddenly learn how to walk. What fun to try their new-fangled legs, but always scouting for mum too.

 Hugs

Then there are times to just stop and preen mum. Because Mama's need some love too

Satisfaction

And times to learn your legs, can even reach-up and scratch your belly too!

Newcomers

At the same time our baby girl was hoping back into Mama's pouch, this little fellow shows up. He's watching them, and isn't old enough to leave his mother's pouch yet. Look at his short hair though - it hasn't grown in properly. Yet he's nearly twice the girl Joey's, size.

This is how I know he's a boy, and she's a girl. Her hair has grown in, old enough to leave the pouch, and yet is smaller than the male Joey. This Mama Roo had to work twice as hard, finding the food to feed her growing boy. The males are always bigger than the females, and take longer for their hair to grow in. Just like baby chicks. Only it's with feathers!

Kisses

So we have two Mama Roos and two growing Joey's, on our slopes. Another generation of fledgling hoppers and eventual nutrient spreaders. They got through the drought, so can now gorge on the tender grasses in abundance. Their droppings will help feed the next crop of grass too.

It's not just about watching cute, baby kangaroos, emerge every year. It's also about ensuring the connection between land and nutrient flow, can continue. Without that, our landscape would be a lot poorer, and our job a lot harder. We need the kangaroos on our slopes, to help.

 Pigeon Pea seeds

So here I am, with a handful of pigeon pea seeds, saved from last year. They're so small, but will play a big part in our plans. While there's moisture in the ground, I will plant many more perennial trees, such as these. Because it's an important food source for the kangaroos, when the grass dies back in the dry.

With the extended drought just gone, I realised we didn't have enough forage trees for them. Why do I care? Because I want to increase the organic matter in our soils - and the kangaroo population, helps us to do that. They're perfectly designed to carry nutrients around our slopes, without causing soil compaction. Neither do they require fencing to "keep" them, like regular livestock.

All round, they're just the perfect fit for our topography. I grow the food source, and they keep growing the Joey's. My most important job at Gully Grove, is ensuring I continue to build connections, where there's a shortfall. Drought is one of the biggest disconnects, in our location. But these tiny seeds, can help bridge the gap.

The cycle continues

For in my hand, I hold many trees. Nitrogen fixing. Ground shading. Bee forage, when in flower. But most importantly, food that will grow in drier times. Perennial trees are hardier than grass like that, because of their deeper taproots. So they can endure more protracted dry periods, and still put on leaf growth. Not much, but it's surprising what a tree can deliver, in the dry.

The above leaves are growing on a four-year old tree. It was completely stripped in the drought, like all the pigeon peas in our yard. So bare, you would think this subtropical species, deciduous. But as soon as the rain arrives, the grasses return, and the kangaroos eat them again - instead of the pigeon peas. This cycle happens every year, but the extended dry this year, just reinforced natures' own strategy, of plant more than you think you'll need!

So if you're a gardener (or want to be) I encourage you to bring all those seeds out of storage, and plant more than you think you'll need!