Rusty Banksia

When our hard-working editor tentatively suggested we might promote a few of the less-appreciated local wildflower species in this year's Newsletters, my instant response was of course positive. (And immediately followed by a mental check-list of my own particular favourites).

Top of a random recall of names - both 'friendly' and scientific - is a member of the Proteaceae family: Banksia oliongifolia, commonly known as Dwarf Banksia. An apt alternative is Rusty Banksia, for the rich, orange-tan of a plant's new leaves. The species is found, mainly in coastal areas, from Bundaberg to southern NSW, and has also been recorded on Queensland's Blacktown Tableland. Despite an association with the Wallum (heathland) scene, the Dwarf Banksia thrives in a range of habitats from open forest and swamp margin to lower Glasshouse Mountain slopes.

It also grows on some of the larger Moreton Bay islands, including North Stradbroke and Russell. Why then have I never come across a specimen on the adjacent mainland, during past years of 'Redland Ramblings?', and in areas that might be thought just right for this hardy and adaptable species. Those few Oblongifolias I've come across have been park, garden or footpath plantings: and 'doing very well, thankyou!'

The specie's seeming absence is all the more surprising for - even today - their healthy numbers in Environmental reserves and 'undeveloped' areas of the Sunshine Coast. While not in the 'wall to wall' category of a few decades back, B. obiongifolia is still around. A 'mind picture' of very recent years is of a late afternoon scene in the Beerwah Field Study Centre, with the declining sun lighting up the orange new leaves of masses of forest - understorey Rusty Banksias. Sheer magic.

So what is so special about this species'? And, not to everyone, it seems. Looking back through a 1970 NSW publication on Australian Banksias, I note that the (quote) delightful little banksia has been regarded as a 'poor cousin' of the more striking eastern species, to be grubbed out indiscriminately as more and more bushland is engulfed by suburban development. (On the Hawkesbury sandstones around Sydney). NB: Species, confusingly, was known as B. aspienifolia in NSW.

Apart from adaptability, a major attraction of Dwarf Banksia is the mass of blooms during the main March-June flowering period. Even a small (1-2m) shrub will carry a mass of flower spikes and in a range of creamy-green, yellow and russet tones. An interesting feature is a blue or amethyst tinge to the more immature flowers. (Banksias are actually made up of up to 1000 tiny individual flowers. Many of these remain for years as the trademark Banksia 'whiskers.')

At peak flowering time the honey scent from massed Dwarf Banksias can be almost cloying and lures a range of birds and insects to the bounty. An advantage of the small size of the shrubs to us Nature Watchers is that the nectar feeders can be easily observed 'going about their business.'

Research in recent years seems to indicate there may be two forms of B. oblongifolia: the low, sprawly shrub of wildflower plains and a taller (up to 3m), larger-leafed form of higher altitudes and ancient dunes. (North Stradbroke Island perhaps an example of the latter).

Dwarf Banksia is a close relative of the Swamp Banksia (B. robur). Interesting natural hybrids, with characteristics of both parents, may appear 'in the wild'. I was able to record some in Caloundra during the 1980s Banksia Atlas Survey, and wonder if any survived the subsequent wildfires in their area. (And more latterly, the NSW 'poor cousins' mentioned back in 1970, by D. Baglin and B. Mullins.)

Well, that's my plug for Rusty Banksia: which I've advocated, with small success, over the years to persons looking for an easy-care Native Plant. Maybe it's all 'in the eye of the beholder?'