Yellow Highlights

This will be the second time I have had to apologize for a long silence. Just like the first time, when I took almost a year off working on planting my then recently acquired home garden, this current pause is also due to major gardening activites, this time a huge landscape project I had the opportunity to work on which I will describe later.

But first let me get back in the saddle talking about my own garden which when left too long undocumented goes through so many changes that its hard to know where to start. Here on the Dark Verandah, a significant event was the collapsing of the bamboo fence. After a huge storm, I woke up to the entire fence blown over. Closer inspection revealed much of the base had been compromised by a combination of rot and termite damage.

There was no fixing this, but I also realized that the border the fence wrapped around had become quite mature and substantially tall enough to screen the verandah area from street view. There were gaps which triggered some moving around of some Rhapis palms and the addition of some bamboo and things went back to an equilibrium of screening function and lush aesthetics.

What has remained sticks to the original idea of this being largely a non floral foliage border - here's the inspirational seed sown years ago when I visited the Green Border at Wave Hill. Then a visit to a garden show in Singapore suggested a tropical version of my favorite combination of green and chocolate. And thats where we are still today - a mainly foliage border which runs the gamut from chocolate to greens.

Somewhere in that mix is an increasing note of yellow highlights. The primary reason for that is random purchases of variegated yellow foliage plants have matured, increased their visual presence and I've liked the effect enough to keep adding more. The fondness for them derives I think by its imitation of 'dappled' light.

A few different varieties of yellow variegated crotons or more correctly named Codiaeum variegatum occasionally show up at the farmers market making available quite different forms from large shrubs to small plants with lacy foliage.

The variegated Fragrea Ceilanica in the foreground of the RHS image has been hovering in a small pot until I properly identified it. Unusually, I had its name from the nursery but I was concerned it might be a large tree so hesitated about planting it into the border. Now that I've seen it used in landscaping mainly appearing as a large shrub, it is now in a large pot, its curving branches and bright variegated colouring in a featured postion.

Hoya in Bloom

Just as I am about to do some serious fixing up on the dark verandah, I have this glorious starburst of Hoya flowers. I had just returned home with some shade fabric for this project, put it down and glanced up to see these backlit wax flowers almost as if they are sugar coated.

A huge windstorm blew down the bamboo arbour which shaded this area. The bamboo was already on its last legs, some decayed and cracked which meant the whole thing needed to be replaced. This of course stalled forever mainly because the hardware store I get the bamboo from is not so convenient to get to and procrastination because it requires substantial effort.

On a recent trip to a nursery, I saw that they had bamboo which they used themselves for supporting plants and were willing to sell me some. It's a more suitable type than the ones I've been using which I buy wrapped in plastic intended for use as drying poles for laundry. This type is from China, treated for use specifically in agricultural situations and requires a prohibitively large minimum purchase.  I was with a friend of the nursery owner which secured the deal. I have gone a step further and varnished the poles - lets see how much longer they last this time.

After the storm, I had to move all the hanging plants I had over to one side where there was still a little shade, and even there, there is substantially more light than they were exposed to previously. I lost a couple of the ferns and perhaps an orchid or two. I'm not sure if it is the increased  light or the bunching of plants that has triggered this Hoya to flower, but I will now of course have to see what I can do to maintain these favourable conditions.

The arrival of flowers has also enabled a hunt of discovery for species kdentification, like most plants I buy this was unmarked or named. The leaves are sizeable with some flecksm so its quite likely that is it is  Hoya sp. Ban Ngong Ngoy a species from Thailand that has carnosa like leaves and pubicalyx like blooms. I have had this plant for about 4 years now which has remained mysterious, hardly changing in size. I've just been happy that it has continued to be alive

The foliage to the the left and right are Lycopodiums which deserve a post of their own at a later date.

Dark Cordylines

Over in the Tropical Potager I have started to use cordylines as flowerless colour accents and here in the Dark Verandah, they are similarly an important resource for dark chocolate tones that come in a variety of shapes and textures.

Pictured right is Cordyline Fruticosa 'Earthquake' purchased unlabeled at a nursery but relatively easy to identify because of its unusual twisted foliage. It has never looked this good in its previous two locations where it sulked and had most of its leaves eaten. Here in a much sunnier position its starting to come into its own, its dark sculptural shape standing out against its neighbours.

On the left, most probably Cordyline Fruticosa 'Compacta', identifiable by its much smaller compact leaves is a freebie from a nearby abandoned house where a huge shrub is spilling over onto the sidewalk. Cordylines have a wonderful ability to be easily propagated by simply cutting a branch and sticking it into the ground. Without the slightest complaint, it takes it from there and before very long is rooted and part of the colony. It can flop when it get taller, so Ive been cutting and re starting them to get a clump thats full but shorter. Quite often they end up in a vase in the house as they are almost like chocolate flowers with the lower leaves trimmed off.

Not so easy to propagate is my Cordyline Fruticosa Black Magic -see how dark it is here when I first got it. Now it is quite magnificent, almost like a small palm in the center of this picture. It hasn't sent up any other branches to propagate though, so it's charms remain solo. Thankfully it doesn't seem to need much, and remains healthy in a relatively small pot.

Despite the extraordinary choice of shape and color available with this plant genus that I've drooled over on the International Cordyline Society's website, the recurring problem here is availability. Nurseries generally stock popular varieties - typically the green and pink ones. Flower shows in Singapore tend to be a good source for more unusual choices, I need to be on the lookout at the next one for more of this superb choice for the tropical garden.

Native Greens

It's an unusually cool morning here, dipping below 80 degrees F.  After a light drizzle, I head out into the garden with my camera to see whats going on. The Dark Verandah is always a good spot after rain which seems to enhance its lush cool vibe, perhaps because of the much higher percentage of foliage. Thats where I found these recent additions as the subject for today's post about two green foliage plants.

On the left Hemigraphis Repanda is what it says on the invoice. Let me say first of all that to even have that information is notable. I bought the plant at a nursey in Yong Peng about an hours drive away but so worth it for that very reason - they name their plants on the invoice and they also have a couple of people there that are really knowledgeable.

I actually bought a similarly named Hemigraphis Repanda from them a while ago which compares exactly to the images you would find if you google the name to find a distinguishing trait of purple coloring to the underside of the leaves. The leaves of this plant are minus that, completely green and smaller and much finer. It must be some variation of it.

The plant I purchased earlier has since died, quite probably because this area was much less shaded than it is now. This plant on the other hand is thriving. Its doing well enough for me to have divided it into 2 other pots and even give a small pot of it away as a gift. Its dense bushy, grassy features looks superb tumbling over the edge of a pot.

On the right is Osmoxylon Lineare. Unlike the Hemigraphis above which is rare to find, this plant from the Aralia family is a very common planting especially in public spaces. It's new to this verandah area but not new to the garden as I had it over in the Tropical Potager when I first got it quite a few months ago. Its in a pot and seems to get quite easily stressed when dry, so the spot I had it in which is sunny and more likely to be subject to neglect from lack of watering wasn't a good fit. Here, it enjoys the cooler shade and being right near my front door, I can immediately spot it's drooping leaves if  we've had a dry spell.

Both plants are native to Malaysia which is one of the themes here on the verandah and the challenge of maintaining that theme is pretty much described above: hard to identify plants to establish that they are native or they are so commonplace that I wonder if I really want to have them here. The latter issue arises because of the huge of amounts of public planting, particularly on newly minted property development that just slaps down the same old plants everywhere. The lady palm, Rhapis excelsa, is another plant with this problem which I also have here but in context, they both add to a story of variety in shape and shades of foliage that I'm trying to achieve.

Scent of Orchids

I occasionally sit out here in the mornings with a cup of coffee. This chair is just round the corner from my front door. Early in the morning with the sounds of birds and sometimes even a light mist, its quite magical. A little later and the sun will have already have taken on a force only known here in the equatorial tropics, but this spot remains an oasis throughout the day.

The nearest durian tree has already sent a branch overhead, then a bamboo fence and lush border wraps the entire area. Overhead I've fashioned a bamboo arbour from which I hang branches covered in epiphytic ferns and orchids. I've also started lifting the pots onto a  base of cinderblocks - I want whatever's at the bottom growing upwards to start weaving into whatever's on top growing downwards. The sum effect is that of a thick but loosely woven botanic shawl that creates shade and even seems to chill the air a degree or two on this dark verandah- something you can feel the minute you step into it.

A few mornings ago, besides the cool dappled shade there was something else, a fragrance, powerful like something in a bottle. A quick search yielded a broken raceme of the Aerides Odorata pictured left. Broken, perhaps because I had picked it up off the floor recently - it happens, the wood rots and when I move things round, tragedies happen - and moved it to another spot. Perhaps, a spot it likes a lot more hence persuading it to flower.

A flowering orchid is no mean feat here as I continue to fine tune this area to create more of a microclimate that can withstand my often neglectful care of these delicate creatures, not to mention a knowledge gap of orchid needs. I have just about turned a corner on keeping them mainly alive, some are starting to look quite healthy and now this, the holy grail, flowering. Often I buy them in flower and once done, never see it again. This particular orchid was a gift, which was not flowering at the time of receipt so this is a particularly momentous event.

Its name, Aerides Odorata is one of precise botanical accuracy describing both its 'airy' epihytic nature and its odorous personality. Its found widely through south east asia, the flowers are waxy and almost translucent looking.  Often with wild orchids, you have to go up close to catch the delicate fragrance but the scent of this orchid is really quite something. Scent of course is already somewhat unusual as most orchids in gardens here are varieties appreciated more their colorful appearance and devoid of scent.

Oddly enough when I first moved in here, there were a lot of things in boxes in the store room since the sixties or seventies and one of those boxes was full of a soap that was popular here with an 'orchid' scent and a picture of an orchid on its wrapper. Too perfumey for me so I gave them away - but that heavy floral scent, is what this orchid does smell like.

With all the tragedies I've had with orchids, I've had somewhat of a moratorium on their purchase since they are somewhat more expensive but I might have to lift that going forward with this little breakthrough. I'm drawn to wild orchids because of all the fascinating variations of  their leaf and root forms and sometimes the added possibility of the flowers being in that palette I love- greens and dark colors but this scent thing has added yet another intriguing dimension.

Green Flowers

I don't often see green flowered orchids at the farmers market but I did today and two spectacular ones at that. Dendrobium Callophyllum on the right is a native of Java, Lesser Sunda Islands and the Moluccas. Hallelujah it likes  sun and I have just the spot for it. I will be moving it out of its pot (growing on charcoal) to attach to a branch to hang on the Dark Verandah. Most of the epiphytes I have, similarly set up are clustered around the shady bits so its great to have this filling one of the sunnier gaps. And fill nicely it will as it has 5 or 6 fairly lanky arched leaf stems.

Dendrobium Ionopus on the left requires medium light so will join the crowd huddled under the shadier spot, perhaps further up front. It will stand out though with its unusual pendulum blooms and spidery foliage. The flowers hang off rigid stem like lanterns on a stick. Where the Callophylum is a fairly bright green, this one is pale , tending to yellow. This orchid is endemic to Phillippines.

I have other green orchids, one is a Coelogyne (a gift) and the other is an unidentified one that I bought. Both were blooming when I acquired them but haven't done so since which is an admission of a huge problem that I have with orchids - I haven't really got the hang of them yet. In a sense they are somewhat high maintenance with their watering needs and their fairly specific sunlight requirements. These sunlight requirements include a nuanced understanding about the difference between bright light and light sun and early morning or late evening sun. Lets just say I'm still learning. It helps when the vendor can give me some directions or at least a name for me to look up its needs. and this is just to keep them alive, I've yet to master whatever feeding or other requirements they need to reflower.

For this reason, these two were priced just right. I see many gorgeous orchids at the market and they are not inexpensive. I've murdered enough of them to resist the temptation to splurge. These were affordable to buy both but also costly enough for me to pay attention to them as I have lost many an orchid, in that early stage when its situation hasn't really been fully understood yet. Additionally, there are a few other factors like storms and squirrels that lead to  discovery of a dead, dried out, or rotted that has fallen in between the pots underneath it.

Ultimately, it will be about finding a balance between getting the conditions and situation right and enough care without it being a burden. Its certainly worth pursuing though as even this narrower range that interests me - wild orchids of this region, has beautiful specimens of extraordinary shapes colors and scents that send out their siren call everytime I go to the market.

The Patient Path

In the last few weeks, the stone path I laid in the dark verandah has finally 'clicked'. It's taken the best part of a couple of years. It's a short path that takes you from the concrete verandah, through the border and an opening in the bamboo fence. I found most of the 'stones' in the orchard where I think many years ago some renovation had occured and these broken pieces ended up being disposed there. They are really chunks of cement and gravel but having been laying around for years in the cooler shade of the orchard, had become mossy.

Having transferred and laid them, which took a few tries to get right, their new site was a little sunnier than what they were used to and the mossiness started to fade. I planted Hemigraphis Alternata and Peacock Ginger, Kaemferia Elegans on one side and Piper Betel on the other. Every few weeks I bought a bag full of Centella Asiatica from the farmers market (sold as a salad green but still with roots on) and stuffed them into all the spaces in between. They were all slow to take and sulky. Both the Hemigraphis and Kaemferia elegans would disappear and return again in a slighty different spot.

Now, some of the stones are lush with moss, the Hemigraphis like a multi hued purple wave lapping this mossy shore. The Kaemferia's complex patterned leaves is regularly accented with a shot of purple flower. The Betel leaves are a vibrant lime color punctuated by the darker green of a Pennywort, Hydrocotyle Ranunculoides self seeded from a nearby pot. The path instead of leading your eye out, now with all these textures and colors, holds your interest and even encourages you to stop to crouch and take a closer look.

The change happened as I started to fill the verandah with more and larger plants. I also put in a bamboo grid arbour- more about that later, both of these have created a significant change in the amount of shade this path  now receives. It's almost been a lesson in Zen, there I was thinking that I was patiently waiting for all these plants to get their act together and all this time it was them waiting for me to create the conditions that now makes them thrive.

Tropical Chocolate

Its amazing how a few small changes can substantially change the look of a garden. A few new acquisitions for the Dark Verandah have done exactly that. Last saturday on my usual hunt at the farmers market, I found not one but two chocolate colored coleus. Week after week this one vendor would have coleus but always in brighter colors of reds and pinks, then this week he had these two - a ruffled chocolate edge one and one with chocolate splashes.

Having had some experience now with the shifting personalites of Coleus I'm going to keep these two in pots and in heavier shade. I've found that shade keeps the lime colors greener (they seem to get more yellow in sun) and the chocolate, darker (they get redder in sun).  Keeping them in pots will allow me to move them around to where they keep the color values I like best. I must also propagate frequently as they wax and wane quite dramatically left to their own devices.

Yesterday on a visit to an orchid farm, I found a couple of pots of the black cordyline pictured above left. I think its Cordyline Fruticosa Black Magic, and what I really like about it is that it does not have red or pink tones that I frequently see in Cordylines for sale here. This one is largely black with some green. The nursery owner was reluctant to sell it, but thankfully I convinced him to part with one of those two plants.

I've had the Christia Obcordata for while, with its pretty chocolate striped leaves that look like butterfly wings. I'd been keeping it in the shade thinking that's what it liked. Although it continued to grow, it remained spindly until a few weeks ago I moved the pot into the bed where its a little shaded by a neighbouring plant but does get some sunshine. It quite literally transformed, doubling its size and becoming an important feature with its unusual coloring shape and pattern.

So a nice boost to my chocolate palette and a little further along the learning curve on how to manage this palette better by playing musical chairs, moving these potted beauties around. 

Painted Nettle

The painted nettle or Coleus has become a favorite in my garden. Although still much in use, the name Coleus is apparently defunct and should properly be called Solenostemon scutellarioides. Can't say I'm adjusting to that terribly well. In the Dark Verandah garden the few that I've planted there have become important color accents adding shots of lime or splashes of yellow or adding dark chocolates and charred purples to the dark theme.

They also grow fairly vigorously so quickly fill the many blank spaces in in the border that desperately need filling. This growth habit is also part of its challenge, as soon as a gorgeous stand takes to take shape, it starts to fall apart. They start to fall over, the leaves that have started to get huge start to be replaced by much smaller ones as the plant starts to take issue with an environment that it seemed to be perfectly happy with before.

They don't all do this, the purply one is guilty of the above and I've learnt to just get into the rhythm of simply snapping a healthy branch and sticking it into the ground and voila a new generation arrives to replace the one that's petering out. This one also complains if it gets a little too sunny and being my first purchase I assumed that this was the case for all Coleus but that's not true.

The maroon one with the pink splashes is quite the opposite. It was doing just ok in a pot in shade and I moved it to a really sunny spot, and forgot all about it. I found it a changed character a week later, thriving twice its size in its new favored spot. Of all the coleus, the large spikes of violet blue flowers of this plant are the most handsome, partly perhaps because of its strong contrast to its red hued leaves.

The splotchy one top right, has been a crowd stopper pulling as many admirers as any flower I've ever known. Regular requests for cuttings perhaps is the key to its success as it remains growing steadily without any crazy spurts, happily enjoying its sunny position. It's also done something odd. One of the cuttings has mutated into a plant that doesn't have the burgundy splotches but is attractive in its own right being just lime and yellow. Fine with me as it looks almost like a completely different variety.

Its actually been difficult to find them in colors I like, many for sale are too gaudy a mix of pinks and greens that don't fit with what I have in mind. You can practically hear my squeal of delight when I see one for sale that does with my palette of greens, yellows and darks. I covet the delicious colors I see on foreign seed catalogues and will soon resort to ordering from them. For now, a friend who has gone on vacation in the US has promised to look for seeds for the black coleus that I used to have and I must admit the thrill of the hunt on Saturdays to the farmers market to find a new one, like the one a I got a couple of weeks ago with the bright lime spot in the middle, is a fun addiction.

Coleus are also native to this region and therefore perfect for the dark verandah where I want to showcase as many natives as possible. Thankfully their wonderful colors helps to provide the balance that is sometimes missing in tropical gardens as native plants tend to be more about foliage than flowers. This explains the the immense popularity of brightly flowered tropical South American species like heliconias that now dominate gardens here. Here in my garden they help draw the eye to the interesting textural and sculptural values of the the other tenants.

The Stranglers

Strangler figs are a common sight here, often found sprouting on the walls of abandoned buildings. Patrick Le Blanc has some photos of Ficus Religiosa doing exactly that on his inspiration page, as one source of his ideas for developing his renowned vertical gardens.

Here, we seem to see more Ficus Benjamina, which if left unsupervised will quickly wrap masonry with its vicious tentacles. We also see many trees in their murderous grip, the photo on the left being one taken after, when the deed is done. The strangler, seeds itself somewhere in the branches of the host tree, wrapping itself around its host until its own canopy along with its crushing tendrils kill it, replacing the tree that was once there. The photo is poignant as its a photo taken at my childhood home. Once there was a Cajeput tree there, a native to this region related to the Tea tree. Now, this giant unrecognizable Banyan, is the only thing left standing as the old house was also recently torn down.

In the empty plot that is adjacent to mine, what was once the property of a ballet school, there are some large Ficus Benjamina that I can see from my house and it represents something different altogether. It is the perch of hundreds of birds that frolic daily in its branches enjoying its regularly bounty of small berries. As urbanization continues to clear oases of natural vegetation like this one and the fauna that survive in it, it is is a joy to watch this vibrant hum of natural wild activity.

Something about the rampancy of how these trees grow speaks of the tropics and what I find is a huge challenge gardening here - how quickly things get out of hand. Suddenly before you know it there's a tree growing in the wall that you can no longer dislodge. There were a couple such trees growing on the outside of my southern wall which by the time I got round to checking, were huge.

I ripped them off, gouged out what I could of their insidous roots and dragged them back home. No mean feat as the larger of the two is about 12 feet tall. I shoved them into a couple of large pots and though they are complaining bitterly with a massive leaf drop, I'm hoping they'll get over it and I will have some badly needed instant shade for the dark verandah.

Looking at all the dropped leaves, I am reminded of the large Ficus benjamina I had in my rented London room a few decades ago, for which I paid a small fortune which would similarly drop all its leaves after a particularly bad spate of neglect but could be cajoled back to life after a little TLC. Back then I didn't even know that this popular houseplant was native to my home country where I am now and see these strange creatures everywhere.

Fern and Vine

I've started planting a corner of the large bed I started around the Dark Verandah and some random happenstances have turned out to be really quite delightful. Two of them are pictured above, a dark sweet potato vine and a black stemmed fern.

On visiting a friend's garden I managed to score a couple of lengths of the sweet potato vine - I've not seen it for sale in the nurseries. I put it at the base of the black bamboo I had recently transplanted. Sadly the black bamboo died- it only had a few leaves left to begin with when I transferred it there from the pot it was in. Then I notice one day that those few leaves had shrivelled, the vine below however was very much alive. Then one day connected the dots, why not let the vine travel up. Bam. I now have a dark sooty column thats already six or seven feet high creating a strong architectural shape in the border.

This particular fern often seeded itself in the plant pots at my dad's house. I allowed its own pot and discovered quite a large attractive fern, finely cut foliage, dark black stems and elegant fiddleheads dusted with white. I still find volunteers in the pots so I transferred them into the bed nestling them in with the black vine unsure if it might be too sunny. Not at all. Its thriving and getting quite big so I'm adding more as I find them to form a colony.

I've no idea what this fern is but I'm amassing a small collection of them by  finding them self seeded in walls around the property, in the monsoon drains, on my walks growing on the trunks of trees. The variety is quite amazing. I'm presuming they are all native as I really do want to try and keep this part of the garden native. The Sweet Potato vine isn't indigenous, with South American origins, but a little research tells me that they have been around in this part of the world for a long time like that other settler that seems almost local, the Chilli. In fact the locals commonly eat the sweet potato leaves as a vegetable which you don't see in the west.

The visual chemistry of this fern with the vine is quite spectacular as the dark vine trails underneath and behind it as it crawls upwards creating the perfect foil for the lacy foliage. The black stalks also echo the admittedly dead black bamboo ones. All in all, with some of the other interesting things going on around which I'll detail later like a purple leaved Persian Shield and some dark coleus, my Dark Verandah is coming along.

Fence Me In

Finally. I've done what I've been wanting to for ages - fenced in the area that borders the Dark Verandah. Should I, shouldn't I? I agonized over it for ages mainly because it was no mean feat to claim that rectangular border which is a fairly large area. A lot needed to be done to peel off the lawn, dig up the soil, fill it up with plants and then of course, fence it in.

The bamboo fencing is something I already knew about. I bought a few panels to screen in the side porch at a great price from a place that I bought all the dark ceramic pots for this verandah.  They were a great price because no one really appreciated their rustic beauty and lay in a few forlorn piles gathering dust for years. As I got closer to the decision of starting this project, I called them and asked for a price to take the whole lot. What they quoted was bananas, and so I acquired sixty panels of varying sizes and and the peeling and the digging commenced.

They sell single lengths of bamboo here, nine feet long, at the hardware store, wrapped in plastic to be used as washing lines or poles. Cut in half and stripped of the plastic, they became the the fence poles to wire these panels to. They are inexpensive enough to just hammer into the ground and not worry about their longevity. I did discover late into the process that  I really should have just left a few inches of plastic wrap before knocking them in and that would have delayed that process. Live and learn.

Serendipitously, I had exactly the number of panels I needed of the same type, sort of a double diamond pattern, for this area leaving, again serendipitously, exactly the right number of panels to enclose the potager area (a slightly wider bamboo was used here) and exactly enough to do something new - more about that later. What bloomin luck.

As far as the dark verandah goes, its doing exactly what I wanted it to do, screen off and make private a courtyard area, while still maintaing a sense of the garden beyond it. The porousness of the fence does that. The picture shows a gate opening of sorts which frames the trees in the orchard and enhances the distance of the fence at the end of the garden.

Now comes the trickier part of planting. I'm moving the black bamboos there, they really aren't doing in well in the pots they're in. The black stemmed Lady palm Rhapis Excelsa on the other hand is doing great in a pot and I decided I like the look of them so much I bought three more to put in the border. Two other kinds of palms that have a delicate look, bambooish even, have gone in, one in fact called a bamboo palm Chamaedorea Seifrizii, the other Chrysalidocarpus Lutescens or Areca palm. Those are the main structural elements that now need time to gain height , I put a deep, mulch of twigs and leaves to 'finish' it so to speak while I continue to add things as I find them. So far a couple of ferns and potentially a lot more, I'm just going to move them in as I find them seeding themselves in other areas of the garden.




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Water Feature

When I went to buy the ceramic pots for the dark verandah with my friend and neighbour, she drew my attention to a large water pot (top left corner) with a purple water lily in it. She had wanted to buy it the last time she was there a year ago, and there it still was. I asked its price and it was a steal since it had a small crack. I asked if they would include the water lily and they agreed and so a water pot with a purple water lily in it came to be the focal point in the design of this corner of the garden.

I've seen a fair few water pots in my travels here. There were the ones in Malacca with Lotus, Sagittaria Japonica and Colocasia. When I went to visit Rimba Ilmu botanic garden I took note of their interesting assortment of aquatic plants. There was also the gorgeous water pot at Rimbun Dahan with golden gardenias floating in it.

Apart from the water lily though,  I haven't really done much more than just add some penny wort and a couple of stalks of Pandanus that I've seen grow really well in water, in fact I pulled these two stalks out of a monsoon drain near where I live. This is largely because the  water lily is doing a rather spectacular job. It appears every day, often in a different place, sometimes there's two flowers. With the drab dark colors of the overall color scheme, the vivid purple blue flower provides a sharp accent. I believe it is a Nympaeae Nouchali or Blue Star Water Lily.

Then of course I needed to populate my water feature with some fish to avoid it becoming a mosquito breeding ground. I got four Golden Gourami who are thriving on whatever finds its way in there, including the ants that march up my bamboo that I apprehend and send to their watery fate. There are now more than four fish in there so life must be good in that aquatic haven.

What is it about about a water feature that garden visitors find so delightful? Is it the shimmer and ripple of shadows and reflections and the occasional dart of something below the surface that keeps the eye engaged. Or is it because it's an ecosystem or 'world' in it's own right rich with all kinds of detail that commands all our attention.

In any case the water feature is a big hit. As soon as a visitor enters the porch they head straight towards it and stare into it for a few minutes. I do it myself somedays, but in my case I am always incredulous that it never looks the same, everything seems to have moved around and I wonder if my fish are still alive  and then I catch a glimpse of one of them. And of course my neighbor who contends that the water pot is in fact hers makes a beeline straight for it whenever she visits.