Growing the right things

We are now into March, meteorological autumn, and although there is sometimes a whiff of autumn in the air, we are still sweltering with high temperatures, being blown away with unseasonal southeasters and scanning the blue, blue skies for signs of a cloud, any cloud. I think we are fed up with this drought now. More in anticipation of possible further restrictions than any real hardship. Those who took great pride in lush gardens are taking the hardest knock, perhaps. It is sad to see years of hard work in your garden wilt under the unforgiving sun and wither as the wind whips through the branches. I find it particularly sad to see my mother's garden in the worst state in 60 years and must confess that I am in a way pleased that she is not here to endure its demise. I'm hoping that some hardy seeds and tough roots will find a way to revive one day when the rainfall cycle returns to former levels.
My own gardening efforts over the last 35 years have certainly not resulted in a botanical paradise, as I have to contend with soil that is almost pure beach sand and has an oily texture that doesn't allow water to soak in easily. Vast sums of money spent on compost, together with home compost systems, have yielded absolutely nothing in the way of soil enrichment, as the wind just blows it away. I suspect it has all landed up in the neighbour's yard, which is thickly treed with invasive aliens flourishing off the fruits of my wallet.
Having said this, the plants that have established themselves, such as clivias, bromeliads, coprosma, milkwood, aloes, proteas and gazanias, have proven to be able to withstand this drought admirably, with a sprinkling from the wellpoint twice a week and a few bottles from the rainwater tanks, and so the appearance of my garden has changed very little over the last year, with just the lawn become more sandy than before. It has never really lived up to the name 'lawn'. I am busy digging up said lawn and replacing it with indigenous shrubs - proteas, agapanthus and Pride of De Kaap, which I am absolutely delighted to say seems to thrive in sandy soil. All going well, the whole garden will eventually just be a mass of shrubbery, and hopefully attract a jubilation of birdlife!