Silver banksia matching autumn yellow

In the streets where I live, autumn is all about the burnt-orange and red of the Pin Oak, the burgundy of the Claret Ash, and the various shades of yellow on a dozen other planted deciduous trees. There are only a few things flowering in our garden - a pretty ornamental Oxalis and a clump of windflowers, with the camellias and wintersweet yet to bloom.

At the same time, in the woody heathland of The Pines, in Frankston, a place we check out seasonally for orchids and other native plants in flower, there is really only one thing in obvious flower - the Silver Banksia. When we visited a week ago we did see one spent Parson's Bands (Eriochilus cucullatus) flower, and some of the grasses and sedges may have been doing their thing, but the yellow flowerhead of the banksia was a beacon in the bushland. 

Banksia marginata is a widespread heathland plant throughout south-eastern Australia, and very common in all but the northern third of Victoria. While it's variable in stature, and just about everything else, the narrow, mostly untoothed, leaves with a flat and slightly indented tip are typical.

And like many in the genus, the leaves are tucked up underneath at the edges.

The fruits opening when mature, rather than remaining on the plant until a fire rips through, are also distinctive compared to some other banksias. 

 

The flowerhead starts green, and turns light yellow. While they can be up to 13 centimetres long, at The Pines, they were mostly five or six centimetres. Quite stumpy. Still, I'm they produced plenty of animal-attracting nectar, warranting another of its common names, Honeysuckle. 

I was happy to see them in flower. Banksias are one of the plants I have designated a floral signal for my shortened (April and May) autumn, along with fruiting fungi, which of course aren't really plants. Grevilleas, which (as a genus) will peak in June and July are my winter emblem, and wattles, early spring (sprinter - August and September).

But mostly I am happy to enjoy the elegance of their flowerheads, and to reflect on them mirroring the colour of the leaves in my street. Simple pleasures.