Where I live, in South East Queensland, there’s a saying that when the Jacarandas bloom, it’s time for students to sit exams.

The trees themselves sit, so quietly, studiously, unnoticed all spring—such as spring is in The ‘swich—until one day it’s as if every single jacaranda throughout the city erupts with energetic fuchsia blossoms at the exact same second.

And there are many mature trees if you drive around the hills on which Ipswich sprawls and look out over the older riverside suburbs. Soft, sumptuous and glowing purple. Imagine the view from the planes that are constantly on the go to and from Amberley Air Force Base.

Jacarandas, a native of Brazil, were temperamental to grow where I grew up in inland NSW. My diligent aunt, who loved all things purple, built hessian forts around them to guard against the frost for at least the first four years of their pretty purple lives. Here, there are no frosts and they’ve taken to The ‘swich with its hot, humid summers like ducks take to water. Sometimes the juxtaposition with Illawarra Flame Trees, which come into flower about a week later, can be a stunning capture for photographers. There’s a couple of exquisite shots of this eye-candy variety to be taken along Spelleken Walk, which just happens to be at the end of our street in Churchill.

Jacarandas are best viewed against clear blue skies. Put your grubby hand out under an arborial vision in mauve and you may even catch a piece of that sky. This morning, we breakfasted in the Stellarossa Cafe in the Nicholas Street Precinct and then set out to take in firstly the Ipswich Sustainable Living Festival in Tulmur Place and then some of the nearby jacaranda vistas.

The view from the toilets and also the carpark exit at the Nicholas Street Precinct was a taste of things to come.

We crossed the road to Timothy Moloney Park between the shops and St Mary’s Church.

The flowers were just at the sweet spot between a sumptuous carpeting of the ground and the purple rain of death. Destructive storms were forecast for this afternoon, and we were keen to take in a few scenes.

We struck out round the park—an easy schlepp for old people.

My favourite Timothy Moloney eyeful was another juxtaposition—that of Jacaranda against the Flaky Old Commercial Hotel Building backdropped by the modern Oaks Apartments Building. Ipswich is awash (forgive the pun on the frequent floods) with character-filled old heritage buildings like the hotel.

The microburb of Goodna, about 20 minutes nailbiting hurtle towards Brisbane from where we live, gets a bit of a bad rap compared to other parts of The ‘swich. We’re talking crime statistics, ground-zero news reports every time the Brisbane River floods, market-entry prices on sad, fibro houses and a depressing ambiance that makes you clutch your bag tight with one hand as you start scratching with the other while the train is letting people on at the station. Its very name means ‘dung’ in the language of the traditional custodians, the Yugara/Yagara people. 

It’s not such a shite place to visit in October though. It shines—the jewel (maybe the amethyst) of South East Queensland. We had a morning last year, wandering Brisbane Terrace and Evan Marginson Park, both easily accessible from the M7, in Goodna. It was a much quieter ‘Hanami’ experience than the cherry-blossom melee in Ueno in Tokyo.

Planted in 1932, the trees are tall and mature. A walk along the high bank of the Brisbane River is rewarding for photographers as well.

So beautiful are the jacarandas of Goodna that they have a family-oriented jacaranda festival every year (check Google for dates).

As purple-loving beautiful as Monet’s water lily ponds in Givenchy overhung with wisteria, Reykjavik’s lupines, Provence’s or Tasmania’s lavender and Goulburn’s lilacs, Ippy’s dreamy mauve jacarandas will knock your socks of magnificence-appreciation right off.