insect mating

It is autumn in Melbourne. The days are getting shorter, the mornings frostier, but the weather has been glorious for cycling. It is also Preying Mantis mating season. I narrowly avoided one on the road this morning, bright green against the bitumen. The second I saw this afternoon as I left work had not been so lucky. It was squashed flat by a bicycle tyre before my arrival. If it was a female it might not yet have mated or laid its eggs. If it was male, it could not yet have mated or it would already have lost its head! (It hadn't.) It was probably too big to have been a male anyway.

Funny how sometimes I really need to look hard to notice the insects on my daily activities. This is true even when they scream at me from the trees (summer cicadas) or the grass (autumn crickets). At other times they are hard to avoid... such as last spring when dozens of pairs of mating ants fell from the sky to copulate un-ceremoniously on our deck table whilst I read emails!

earthstar decay

The rain has brought the fungi. The diversity of those living in our small patch of garden and nearby is extraordinary! Most recently discovered is an Earthstar (Geastrum pectinatum) right outside the front door. A round shell of tissue splits open along lines of longitude forming a multi-pointed star with a spherical centre that (apparently) contains the spores. I am waiting for rain drops to cause this to explode in a puff.

Dozens and dozens of shaggy ink caps are forming miniature castles before distintegrating into the telltale black goo that sticks to your shoes if you inadvertantly brush past one. A huge mushroom (well, it was perhaps 10 inches in diameter) sprang from the mulch, no doubt growing on the remaining roots of a recently removed tree. It was tempting to BBQ it but I am no expert at identifying these things and don't wish to end my days writhing in pain from a toxin-laden winter's supper! In a nearby garden perhaps a dozen Fly Amanita, the infamous red toadstools with white spots, form a garden fit for a faery rave. Winter is a terrific time to be looking at your feet. True, the wildflowers are in hiding, but their "opposites" are well worth investigating. As always, decay and beauty go hand in hand. Nature's amazing organisms provide the ultimate display of ingenuity and diversity.

gnome

Before gardens there were garden gnomes. As they couldn't be proper garden gnomes without a garden, they invented one, the garden of Eden. The gnomes filled it with all manner of flora so that they would have somewhere to sit in the shade. As well as various animals, they put two dullard giants in the garden. The first was made from earth, Adam, and the second, made from his rib, Eve. Adam and Eve then misbehaved and were kicked out of the garden to live in a world where they had to make their own gardens. Nevertheless, to this day the gnomes keep watch over them and their offspring from various vantage points around suburbia.

green contractors

Monash University used to have a bunch of green-clad grounds staff. They were a friendly lot who could always be found around the university with their rakes, brooms and wheel-barrows. They cared for the trees, bushes, grasses and ponds. On a number of occasions they took the time to answer my enquiries about various native plants around the place. I knew them by face and a couple knew me also. We would exchange simple smiles of greeting as I encountered them at lunch or on my way to and from lectures and my office.

They are gone, having been replaced by a number of green contractors who blow dust and leaves around with leaf blowers. These contractors remove garden leaf litter to make the place "neater", thereby ensuring the lizards, spiders and other critters have nowhere to live. I don't know these people although they wear green uniforms with a company name emblazoned across the back. Their leaf blowers are noisy and make them unapproachable. They use petrol-powered line trimmers around the cafe whilst the academics are trying to chat about philosophy, chemistry, maths or important things.

A couple of years ago, a garden of native plants used by the aborigines was destroyed to make way for a new building. This had been tended by some senior academics, in particular an elderly woman who was most distraught about the loss of her contribution to Monash's gardens. Did anybody care besides her? I did! I bet the old grounds staff did too. My favourite quiet lunch spot, the botanical specimen garden by the pond, had occasional oddities — such as the foul-smelling Dead-horse lily and the glorious, Triffidesque sunflowers — has been partly demolished by building works.

I am getting old and grumpy. Some changes are clearly not for the better.