These last few days, everyone is saying “Thank goodness for the sun!” People are stretching like cats, long skin and whiskers pleased. It’s true the summer has been a wet one. Canberra wringing in a wet towel, warmth like dogs breath fogging up the sky. Mosquitoes are having street parties in every dampish, shady spot … I come away from school pick-up slapping and scratching feverishly.
The city has stayed mostly green and the mowers have been working overtime and not keeping up. There are signs about saying “Too wet to mow”.
Meanwhile, further north, it’s been too wet for anything … way too wet. Death and flooded houses and people on roof tops and chooks in floating tents and cars sailling down rivered streets. But even the ABC isn’t saying the words “Climate Change”. Protests are media-muted. The children lose their law case demanding duty of care for future generations. Australia sinks deeper into its political morass.
impassive pigeon on power lines camouflaged by heavy sky federal election looms