I got a new baby in the post last week, all snuggled into a box and tucked into shredded newspaper, and now she's sitting on my breakfast bar, waiting to be planted. This is my black mulberry tree, and I am ridiculously excited to have one :) Memory here: one of my mum's work colleagues farms on the Eyre Peninsula. It's hot and dry; the family live in a giant tin shed. The adults put down tarpaulins on the ground and shake the mulberries from the tree, which is enormous. We kids gorge ourselves on the dark fruits and run in and out from under the tree's overhanging branches. It's another world under there, cool and dark and light-dappled. Now I have my own treeling, and whilst I don't think I'll let it get to it's potential 10 x 10 meters, it will take it's pride of place in the middle of the lawn.
In other news the air is becoming warm and the garden is blooming. The old rose along the fence, near the letterbox, is shooting into life with pink-blushed leaves. At least one nasturtium has shown it's floral face, and it is a golden yellow with red cheeks, and I have my first correa flower gracing the rose garden.