A garden from the ashes

No really. This is a garden that has emerged from the ashes. In November 2013 when we were enduring our colossal floods on the farm in the Ardèche, a bushfire swept through Mt Irvine and destroyed this once magnificent garden.

And all that is left of the house is the chimney. It stands as a reminder and a rather forlorn statue.

Painting certain features in the garden black may be all the rage.  And yes, the dark grey of my rill in our courtyard and the planters all in Farrow and Ball Downpipe attest that I am not immune to this fashion.

But these fenceposts are burnt.  As are all the trees. 

But a few years on see the progress. These huge eucalpyts. And many are over two hundred feet high, are spouting leaves again.

Kookootonga was spared the fire, but this house and garden lie directly above the farm, higher up the mountain. And we took a drive up Dane’s Way to have a look at the progress.

The morning was foggy and misty and blessedly cool. Such a relief from hot humid Sydney. Or is it that I just prefer mountains these day?

We walked about the property, marvelling that some plants were completely spared the fireball that engulfed this part of the mountain.

Tree ferns up, sedums resprouting, crocosmia bulbs obviously are indestructable; some trees just scorched. Others resprouting. You can’t say it’s a cheery place, but I love the gardener’s willingness to start again.

They have already planted a small orchard of fruit trees, and one house has been rebuilt. 

But none of this twentieth century stuff. This one is a marvel of almost fireproof construction.

Steel and tin and no wooden verandahs, but gravel and shingle and a clever earth wall just behind the new house to give some more protection from a possible fire.

We stalked about the property and then had a lovely walk back down the road all the way round to the farm.

There has been so much rain this year that the paddocks are inpassable on foot. The grass is too high and the sheep are working hard to get it down, but I didn’t fancy coming across a snake warming itself up under a tussock and surprising him in the mist.

Besides, if I hadn’t walked down the road I wouldn’t have hear and seen this utterly gorgeous parrot. Or is it a cockatoo? That will teach me for not taking notes. Yellow tailed black cockatoo.  Calyptorhynchus funereus if you must. (Now I’m just showing off.)