Growing Up with Flowers: From Nan-nan’s Garden to Aquila
Flowers and birds have always been my favourite things, ever since I was a little girl. My love of flowers and gardens comes from my maternal grandmother, Nan-nan. When I was very young, we lived on a farm in Penna but went to school in Hobart. Penna’s an in-between place with fuzzy boundaries; it’s the area between Richmond, Sorell and Midway Point (for anyone from Southern Tasmania). There were certainly no school buses in Penna back then.
My brother James and I often stayed at Nan-nan and Puppy’s (my maternal grandfather) because they lived close to our schools. I don’t remember my younger sister or brother being there in those early years; with James only 13 months older than me, it felt like we always travelled together at that time.
Wherever Nan-nan and Puppy moved (and they moved often), Nan-nan planted magnificent gardens. I didn’t realise then how much I admired them or indeed, how proud of her I was because of her gardens. Looking back, though, her influence is very clear. Her gardens were immaculate yet welcoming, layered and flowing, so you naturally wandered around the house. They struck that just-right balance of formality and cheerful randomness, overflowing with flowers. I loved being in her garden, looking at the flowers and sometimes picking a few for a tiny posy if Nan-nan let me.
Years later, when we moved to the farm at Richmond and into a grand old Federation-era country home, Mum’s Garden echoed Nan-nan’s. Beautifully designed, formal en masse in places with free-flowing pockets for balance. It was once a part of the Australian Open Garden Scheme, and heaps of people came to have a look. In hindsight, I was proud of her, too, because of her garden.
Around then, my love of Australian native flowers really took root. Mum was forever fending off possums who adored the fresh buds on the English-style roses. Tasmanian Brushtail Possums aren’t like their mainland cousins; they’re huge, and when they fall for a plant, they can strip a shrub in no time.
Fast-forward to today, and Aquila’s landscaped gardens are proudly Australian natives (with a few Leucadendron and Proteas sneaking in). Planting species from, say, the United Kingdom just doesn’t feel right here, and I’ve seen firsthand how keen our wildlife is to “rearrange” them. The Aquila gardens aren’t possum-proof; they’re just possum-ignored!
Australian natives are gloriously themselves – the spiky Grevilleas and wonderfully shaped Kangaroo Paw, the cheerful pom-poms of Billy Buttons, the sculptural drama of Banksias and Callistemons, and the long-lasting colour of the pretty Everlastings. The best thing is they take turns on the stage all year, plenty in spring, but equally as plenty in winter.
So yes: at Aquila, there’s always something in bloom, whenever you choose to visit. The natives run the show, the possums sit politely for guest wildlife spotting only, and I’m somewhere in the gardens harvesting my flowers for drying to create pretty dried bush flower posies and wreaths for sale at the Aquila Hay Shed stall.
