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Walk through the Australian bush, and you’ll find a green that no paint chart quite captures. Eucalyptus canopy filtered through dust, heat and distance, grey at the edges, sometimes almost silver, never one fixed shade.

For decades, Australian interiors avoided it for exactly that reason. It was much easier to paint the walls white and look at the landscape.

That is no longer the case. Across this year’s Dulux Colour Awards, the celebrated projects shared an unmistakable thread: colour drawn not from trend forecasts or mood boards, but from the ground the buildings stand on.

Bushland greens, harbour blues, valley reds, coastal aquas are a palette with terroir, if such a thing can be said of paint.

“There’s a strong sense that designers are moving beyond safe, uniform schemes and embracing colours that reflect the local Australian landscape,” says Dulux Colour and Design Manager Lauren Treloar.

She points to greyish greens echoing coastal bushland, cool blues that nod to Sydney’s harbourside light, and rust-toned reds pulled from inland, rural country. “These shades feel rich, earthy and versatile.”

White walls, grey stone, maybe navy if a client was game, that was the old formula. Now colour is being used to describe where a house actually is, not just how it looks.

The house that disappears into its garden

Few projects made that argument more persuasively than Nithsdale, an 1890s villa in Stanmore, restored and extended by Studio Prineas as an intergenerational family home.

Once compromised by decades of unsympathetic renovation, the house has been restored to something like coherence, and colour has done much of the heavy lifting.

Architect Rachel Prineas didn’t stop at a front door or a strip of trim.

She drenched the entire exterior in two deep tones, Dulux Bronze Icon and Tambo Tank, pulling render, timber and ironwork into one chromatic field, lifted straight from the native planting around the house, species indigenous to Wangal Country. The building and its garden start to blur into each other.

Judge Ben Peake, Principal at Carter Williamson Architects, called the result mature and sophisticated, praising the discipline behind it: deliberate selections lifted from the immediate native landscape rather than abstracted from it.

The effect is a house that no longer sits in its garden so much as it recedes into it, camouflage as design strategy, and a quietly radical rebuttal to the idea that heritage colour has to mean caution.

A valley, painted from the inside out

If Nithsdale shows landscape dictating a single, disciplined hue, The View, this year’s Residential Interior winner, designed by Studio Shields in the treetops of the Yarra Valley, shows what happens when an entire palette is built from the shifting conditions of a single place over time.

Seven years, start to finish. The colour scheme evolved right alongside the build, tones tested on site, adjusted through the seasons, checked against the light as it moved across the valley.

“The palette draws from oxidised earth, eucalyptus canopy, dry grasses and shifting skies, allowing the interior to feel inseparable from the landscape,” says designer Ruby Shields.

Chartreuse and olive pick up the bushland outside the windows. Burgundy and earthy reds anchor the more intimate rooms, echoing soil and aged timber. Powdered electric blues cut through the warmth for clarity.

It is, in Shields’ words, less a single decision than a tonal narrative, unfolding room by room as a considered journey.

Judge Sarah Jane-Pyke, of Arent&Pyke, singled out the precision of that placement, and the cohesion it created, proof, she said, of how thoughtfully deployed colour can enhance the texture of everyday life.

It’s a long way from colour as decoration. Here, it functions closer to memory: a way of encoding a specific valley, its light and its seasons, into the walls of a house.

When the landscape is the coastline

Not every project translating “place” into paint sits in the Australian bush.

Te Pākau Maru, a 63-home development on former brownfield sites in New Brighton, Christchurch, took its name, meaning “the sheltering wing,” or “the place of joy”, from a gift by Ven Dr Lyndon Drake, and built its exterior palette around the beach, sea and sky.

What ties Nithsdale, The View and Te Pākau Maru together isn’t a shared shade; it’s a method.

Each project treats its palette as more of a site survey than a style choice, asking what a place already looks like before deciding how a building should be painted.

Treloar sees this as central to where Australian and New Zealand design is heading.

Warm neutrals are doing particularly well in the Australian climate right now, she says, softening rooms without losing their contemporary edge, and sitting easily next to the timber, linen and stone that anchor so many of these projects. The bigger shift, though, is about provenance. Designers can increasingly tell you why a colour belongs in a house, not just that it looks good in it.

There’s a practical lesson in all this for anyone renovating or building right now: skip the trend report. Step outside instead. Look at the ground, the trees, the light at a particular time of day. Ask what the house is already surrounded by.

As these award-winning projects prove, the answer was often there all along; you just have to be willing to bring it inside.