This song, written by Cole Porter for his musical Kiss Me, Kate is on high rotation in my head, but not leaving my lips - it’s even too darn hot to sing out loud.
Here in Victoria, we're entering the fourth day of a
heatwave. Yesterday and today again will be 44°C (111.2°F).
Residents in rural areas, bushland
suburbs and firefighters are very nervous. Everyone is on high alert.
Erratic wind changes and predicted
thunderstorms present threat of lightening strikes, which can create their own
problems with spot fires or downed powerlines.
And, I won’t even begin on
the subject of fire starters. There aren’t enough words (mostly expletives) to describe
how I feel about these low-lifes.
As I look outside, and see the tall
towering gums surrounding our home bend as their volatile oil-filled canopies
sway, showering the house with discarded tinder dry leaves, I hold my breath.
I always worry about the creatures
of the bush. Large to small. They all have their place in this world, and fire
is fatal.
They adapt to the heat, I know, but
I like to ensure that I keep the bird baths topped up with cool water for the
birds (insects and possums too) when they visit, to refresh and stay a short while before they seek
shade.
Their beaks open to pant, and wings
part from their bodies to allow air flow to their skin, and I wish them well as
they fly off.
Jack finds a nice cool spot on the
kitchen tiles and doesn't budge, except to drink from his (ice cubed) water
bowl, and a quick dash outside for a wee.
At night, the portable fan (no air
con) is positioned so he also benefits from what air - these nights, warm air -
comes our way.
Our fur kids, especially those with thick coats, suffer so in these hot conditions.
I despair when I hear reports that distressed, heatstruck dogs have been found left in cars in high summer - again, another subject I'll keep away from right now, as it makes my blood boil.
My studio is located on the north
side of our home. The heat radiating through the walls during the day turns it
into a Swedish dry sauna. Ugh.
And I have to be in there (avoiding
it at the moment) to create and prepare for markets on Feb 1st.
And so, I've been grumpy the past
few days.
But, this morning, I found myself
ashamed at my grumpiness and whinging about the heat and lack of sleep.
This heatwave will pass. And, a
cooler change will be here in a day or so. Relief.
As much as I'm SO not a summer
girl, and dislike the heat, I remind myself it is summer
after all. It is as necessary as the slumbering cold of winter.
The wheel of life. Seasonal cycles
that are a part of this unique, beautiful planet.
I just dislike the potential devastation
from the extremes.
I find myself thinking of the
people of Adelaide.
With sweltering temperatures soaring to 46°C (114.8°F) as they enter their sixth day of Hades heat.
Now officially declared the,
“hottest major city on the planet today”.
I worry about the city’s elderly, ill and infirm, hoping and
praying that they get through without the health dangers that high heat can
bring.
My heart goes out to the people and
animals (domestic and wild) that suffered as fires recently raged through the
hills of Perth,
our previous home city on the other side of the country.
Over 100 bushfires are burning
across the east coast in these extreme conditions.
Here in Victoria, 11,000 hectares currently rage out
of control in the Grampians – rugged mountain ranges of jaw dropping splendour.
I wish for the safety and
protection of our firefighters. Brave souls who face danger as they strive tirelessly
around the clock to dampen and contain the hungry flames that leap up to 100
feet in the air and raze the landscape, consuming all in their path.
I mourn the loss of wildlife. And
it hurts to think of the panic and pain they experience. Baby birds and animals are just venturing forth and experiencing the world around them. Oh, the tears.
Wildlife workers have been
inundated with animals and birds suffering from injuries and heat stress.
Many of you will remember this photo of sweet “Sam” the koala, found amid the charred and smoking forest, once her home. Rescued by the kindhearted Victorian
fire fighter after the Black Saturday fires.
The image melted hearts around the
world.
She was one of the fortunate few.
This vast country of extraordinary,
unique, diverse beauty is suffering under a cruel weather pattern. As
it always has. Some summers are worse than others. Nature’s gifts, and her burdens.
So, my personal complaints are
truly minor.
I am grateful that I can take a shower when I can’t bear my own armpits any longer.
And I can fill my tall
glass of water with frosty ice cubes to keep hydrated and cool.
Pot plants can be watered and kept alive.
I can get through these languid
days, knowing it’s not forever.
Only, as I look out my window, I
close my eyes and ask the Universe to please, keep our forest valley and all the
creatures I’ve come to know that dwell here, safe.