You often hear people talking about “fake spring” around this time of year; that stretch of warm days in the middle of winter that tricks the jasmine into blooming early, only for the cold to slam back a week later. It’s a small, half-joking admission of something bigger: our seasons don’t genuinely match what the land is doing.
Every January, half of Australia calls it ‘summer’ while mangoes drop up north and wildflowers fade in the south-west. Every June, we call it ‘winter’ as if the whole continent shares one grey sky, when some Country is at its wettest and most fertile.
That’s because our four seasons (spring, summer, autumn, winter) were never built for this continent. European colonisers brought the Gregorian four-season model with them, and it’s still the broad framework the Bureau of Meteorology uses today.
It’s tidy and evenly spaced, designed for temperate Europe rather than a continent spanning tropical monsoons, deserts and cool forests all at once. No wonder it never quite fits.
Seasons that actually watch the land
Long before 1788, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples had already worked out something more precise: seasons that follow what the land, water, plants and animals are actually doing; not what a page on the calendar says.
These calendars watch star positions and water, plant and animal cycles, and reveal a deep understanding of how living things depend on one another. Because Australia is so ecologically varied, there’s no single Indigenous calendar. They differ by geography and culture, from the six-season Noongar calendar (south-west WA) to the multi-season Yolŋu calendars of Arnhem Land (north-east NT).
Take the Noongar calendar as one example:
Birak (Dec–Jan): first summer, warm and drying, traditionally the mosaic burning season.
Bunuru (Feb–Mar): second summer, hottest and driest, coastal fishing time, white-flowering gums in bloom.
Djeran (Apr–May): cooler and dewy, red-flowering gums bloom, banksias open to feed small mammals and birds.
Makuru (Jun–Jul): cold, wet winter, people traditionally moved inland as waterways filled.
Djilba (Aug–Sep): first spring, changeable weather, acacias flowering, first joeys appearing.
Kambarang (Oct–Nov): second spring, an explosion of colour as reptiles wake and the country transforms.
Notice what’s missing: fixed dates. Seasons run long or short depending on what the landscape is actually doing, not a date circled on a page. That’s not a looser calendar; it’s a more accurate one, because it reads the country in real time.
Why this matters for what we plant
This all matters to what we plant in our gardens and communities because Indigenous calendars are, in effect, planting guides written by tens of thousands of years of observation. If Djeran tells you banksias open exactly when local wildlife need the nectar, that's proof native plants and native animals evolved on the same clock.
This is exactly why giving thought to real seasonal cues when selecting which native seedlings to plant matters:
Native plants are built for local soil and rainfall, needing far less water and fertiliser once established than introduced species.
They hold the ground together, especially through heavy-rain seasons that can wash away bare soil.
They feed the food web in sequence, so there’s always something flowering or fruiting for pollinators and wildlife.
Fire and growth cycles are linked. Many native seeds (including grass trees among them) are triggered to germinate by fire, echoing traditional burning practices.
A small shift with a big payoff
You don’t need to abandon the terms ‘summer’ or ‘winter’ overnight. But next time you’re planning what to plant, it's worth looking up the seasonal calendar of the Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander people whose Country you're on, and asking “what is the Country around me actually doing right now?”.
That’s the gift of Indigenous seasonal knowledge: not a rival calendar, but an older, more precise way of listening to an entire continent. Every native seedling planted with that rhythm in mind is a small act that helps to put the natural ecosystem’s true clock back in charge.
Seasonal information about the Noongar six-season calendar is drawn from the Bureau of Meteorology's Indigenous Weather Knowledge program, developed in partnership with Noongar community members and knowledge holders. This article respectfully acknowledges the Noongar people as the Traditional Owners and custodians of this knowledge.