Here Be Dragons; And Spiders; And Thorny Devils – gardens and wetlands in Canberra.

Canberra in December and January; the city is awash with agapanthus. We walk past suburban gardens and everywhere they are blooming as if there’s no tomorrow; their gaudy lilac heads rise up on long stems above the cluster of emerald leaves below. We have come from Vancouver’s blue grey winter to a world filled with colour.








Flowers emerge Triffid-like from planters at cafes,





and in the Old Parliament House Gardens the roses burst forth with confident elegance. Look at me; aren’t I beautiful! Who could ever doubt a rose?














Flowers are everywhere, including at the Australian National Botanic Gardens.

















A trip home to Canberra always includes a visit to the gardens with its extensive array of native plants, all 75,000 of them. It’s a scientific collection, but the gardens are so much more than that. There are wide picnicking lawns with tall eucalyptus trees; a misted rain forest gully; elusive wildlife (Look! There’s an echidna waddling across the lawn!); not-so-elusive roos and wood ducks; and water features with dragons.

So first we must hunt dragons!





Water dragons have been here for 20 million years; they are truly prehistoric! The biggest of these diminished dinosaurs are a metre long, 2/3rds of which is a tail that’s all muscle and shaped to act like an oar when swimming. Spiky spines; big claws; powerful hind legs; these would-be fearsome creatures hang out in trees alongside creeks and rivers. At the first hint of danger down they go, diving into the water. Underwater they slow their heart rate and can remain there for as long as ninety minutes. On land they run – on all fours, or even faster upright on their powerful hind legs.

But we are not afraid. And neither are they. With a little caution, on our part, and even less stealth, the dragons ignore us and go about their business.

This one is not much more than newly hatched, only about 30cm (12 in) long, tiny compared to the others; almost camouflaged on a rock above the water, warming itself in a shaft of sunlight.





The others all but pose for us.








Australia has about 800 native species of eucalyptus. They’re known colloquially as gum trees because any break in the bark of some species allows for the oozing escape of copious amounts of botanical gum or resin. The Indigenous people would use the glue as a salve, or combine it with water to treat symptoms like diarrhoea; the leaves have been used for millennia as a tonic for countless ailments.

Common names for gum trees are flawlessly descriptive. This is a paperbark,





this, a scribbly gum,





and this, a stringybark.





Really, what else would you call them. As for the Latin names, I have no idea.

When we were little, dad would read me and my sisters a bedtime story every night. One of my favourites was Snugglepot and Cuddlepie, a series of books written and illustrated by May Gibbs, the first published in 1918. Snugglepot and Cuddlepie are gumnut babies, their appearance based on eucalyptus nuts. Female gumnut babies have hair, hats and skirts based on eucalyptus flowers. The villains are the Big Bad Banksia Men! Which brings me to this: a Banksia flower.





To this day I can’t see a Banksia flower without thinking of Snugglepot and Cuddlepie, and the scary Banksia Men, who were modelled after the dark brown seed pod that evolves from the flower.

Everyone knows about all the deadly Australian spiders, well these delicate beauties are spider flowers, and not remotely deadly. They are Grevillea, and there are 350 different species.








From spiders to the indomitable kangaroo paw, an unexpected blaze of colour in a harsh desert land.




















Things are not quite exciting enough though, so I decide to take a ride on a Thorny Devil. This one is three metres long. In reality they are a tiny 21 cm, completely harmless, and yes, very thorny, but not prickly.

Across almost to the other side of inner Canberra is  Jerrabomberra Wetlands Nature Reserve. Way back when I lived in Canberra, Jerrabomberra Wetlands wasn’t a thing. It was just this swampy area at the far eastern end of the lake where it petered out as the Molonglo River. I remember a rickety old bridge across it on Dairy Flat Road; we rarely had reason to go there. The lake was created by damming the river and this eastern end was all that was left of the original Molonglo River-Jerrabomberra Creek floodplain. The area was used mainly as pastureland, and  eventually designated a nature reserve. There has been an extensive replanting program to bring back native shrubs, trees and grasses, and with a commitment to ecological recovery it has emerged from swampy weed-ridden grazing land to a richly diverse habitat with a flourishing population of bird and aquatic life. Apart from hundreds of bird species there are turtles, fish, bats, lizards, frogs, snakes, and water-bugs. But still, the grasslands, which make up 66% of the area, are dominated by agricultural grasses and weeds, mostly introduced. They range in height from three metres to less than ten centimetres. Once we start exploring we find out all about them.

I’d wanted to go to the wetlands because I’d never been there, and because my brother-in-law frequently shared photos on Facebook of the birdlife. It felt like my kind of place.

I mentioned in a previous post that in 2022 Canberra had had an unusually wet spring so vegetation everywhere is tall and lush. At the Wetlands the grasses are as high as an elephants eye, and that’s about all we see.

From time to time the screen of green parts to reveal, across a wide watery area, a black swan





and occasional vistas.








We see the upper half of a resolute runner on a trail across the grasses from us, and the quick blue flash of a fairywren. We see more, and different grasses;








we see a wattle tree dripping with seed pods;





and Lemon Myrtle, used by Indigenous Australians for 40,000 years. They treated headaches by crushing and inhaling the leaves, and wrapped the leaves in paperbark to flavour fish dishes. They were used for food flavouring, and still are to this day.








And we see this:





It’s not your usual dandelion puff. It’s as big as your fist.

Canberra’s an odd city; it has never been allowed to grow organically, every aspect has been planned from the beginning. Many people who visit say it’s boring, especially other Australians. People say it has no soul. But it is also a city of parks, and gardens, and tree-lined streets, abundant brilliant birdlife, kangaroos, and acres and acres of untamed nature reserves. It’s this easy access to nature that I love so much, and the Botanic Gardens and the Wetlands are both a significant part of that. Wherever you go in this city it’s easy to get connected to the natural world; and that nourishes my soul.








This was and always will be Aboriginal land. Canberra is on the lands of the Ngunnawal, Ngunawal and Ngambri peoples.



Next post: Family Matters





All words and images by Alison Louise Armstrong unless otherwise noted
© Alison Louise Armstrong and Adventures in Wonderland – a pilgrimage of the heart, 2010-2023.