Adelaide's Parklands...behind the pretty face with Keith Conlon

Autumn's showers and crisp morning paint new colours through Adelaide's great circle of parklands. Greens come back over the brown unirrigated paddocks; greens are gone from the trees, giving way to gold's and yellows.

The parklands set as the city's defining walls and its lungs. They also keep us in touch with Nature's seasons. And if you listen to the trees, if you look carefully, you can see how our expectations of the parklands have developed.

We couldn't row a little row boat round Rymill Park's lake as I did on this weeks show without Col. William Light, of course. As Adelaide's designer, he marked the parklands all round the city and North Adelaide grids for the 'healthful recreation' of it citizens. Any vagueness was tidied up by Governor Gawler who paid one pound per acre in 1839 to ensure they were in public hands. Perhaps there should be a Governor Gawler Park somewhere!

Rymill Park, with its lake and rose gardens and deciduous trees showing their Autumn colour, took another 120 years or so to emerge. Before that it was bare, swampy in winter, and populated by cows. Now, it plays guest to multi-cultural fairs, weddings and concerts on the lake's island, and the spectacular annual international horse trials - complete with equestrian splashdowns into the water.

The parklands are not one entity. They provide room for petangue, putters and playgroundsŠand garden lovers. But what should the gardens look like? The Pennington Gardens are in the parklands as they straddle the Torrens River and run up past Adelaide Oval to St Peter's Cathedral. The two giant elms and other old trees are a living legacy of German trained August Pelzer, who was appointed city gardener exactly a century ago.

Pelzer planted many of the avenues along the city's entrance roads. He changed the face of Adelaide. As you look round Pennington Gardens , there is one notable absence. There are no gum trees, Australia's most evident native species. August Pelzer did not like them in his gardens, preferring European trees, and decorative border, clipped hedges, and they are all still there.

A walled lily pond and formed garden were added in the 1970's. The park is a wedding photo alley on weekends, and so it is clear most of us are still happy with Mr. Pelzer's ideas.

Across King William Road, Pennington Gardens have had a special memorial role since the women of the state erected the Cross of Sacrifice for their fallen in World War I. In Autumn the symbolic planting's of olives, rosemary and red and white roses are at their best for the Anzac Day ceremony held there.

Adelaide's parklands are by no means frozen in time. When it comes to formal gardens, the city gained a lot more all-year-round green lawn in the 1960's. Veale Gardens, for instance, date from that decade, and for that we properly salute Brigadier William Veale, long time Town Clerk of the City Council and city engineer before that.

Sent overseas in 1957, he returned enthused to design the formal rose gardens and rounded landscaping in South Terrace. He also pushed successfully for the development of the much bigger Rymill and Bonython Parks.

Veale Gardens turn into a wedding expo every Saturday, with eleven book-able photo and ceremony sites. The rockpools with bubbling fountains and overhanging plants are favourites, along with pretty spots along the artificial creek.

In Autumn, the formal entrance to the garden is graced with a glorious flush of pink rosesŠ..the relatively new City of Adelaide variety.

By contrast, the northern parklands still reflect a past age of much rural and agricultural activity. Several horses are pastured by permit, and the slopes down towards Walkerville are exactly like country paddocks.

In the last few years hundreds of native species have been planted in copses in the open grassland, bringing a touch of the Australian bush to the city. That's a new look, and a new expectation of the parklands.

In one section there, a pocket playground and garden reflects the concern of an early twentieth century Lord Mayor, Charles Glover. Rather than spend money on the traditional Mayoral Bill in the dark days of World War I, he opted to spend it on the backstreet kids and give them playgrounds in the parklands. Nearly eighty years on, Glover Playground on Le Fevre Terrace is as popular as ever. It is first in - best dressed for a weekend picnic.

Perhaps Governor Gawler will get his due in Bonython Park, another 1960's development. I suggest the sand bar in the lower Torrens lakes take his name. It is a select spot for pelicans, swans, coots and moorhens. There are two small weirs to dam the trickle in the Torrens before the winter rains, and the surrounding paths are well trodden by joggers and dog-walkers.

Commuter cyclists gliding to and from the closeby city, know the hidden side of Bonython Park - over the Torrens, away from the main recreation areas. A mature sugar gum avenue arches into a small playground. It is one of my serene secret spots in the parklands.

As the older trees die back, they are now being replaced with river red gum saplings, especially down close to the river. As they slowly assume their mature magnificence, this park will more and more reflect the Kuarna aboriginal name for this park - the valley of the river red gums. That will be a new look for the next century in Bonython Park, in Adelaide's changing parklands.

Autumn is a beautiful time to rediscover their many faces.