It’s one of those really hot days in Melbourne. Here we say a ‘scorcha’. The flies are sticky and they just love the thrill that comes from buzzing inside my sunnies. In and out they dart and I wish them dead if I could so much as catch even one of them between the palms of my hand. These are the days I think about when I’m not here. It’s a love/loathe sort of relationship. It’s the heat I craved, but it’s also the heat that makes me want to do absolutely nothing as it simmers around me. There’s always a fire-ban to accompany the day and as the years have gone along and the severity of weather stretches the fire-bans have become necessary.
It’s this funny part of Melbourne I live in that is not yet rural, but neither suburban. We look across valleys and hills of Australian bush and veins of it even run through our neighbourhood. The hot weather opens up the CFA at the top of our hill and they stay on high alert on code red days with their station always open and their workers restless. This is just it – the love/loathe relationship; Of enjoying the sun in its fierceness, but hating the fierceness it brings to Australia.