It’s sooo hot and sweaty. I’ve filled the bath with cold water. I lie in it for a few minutes when I get the chance during the day. Then stand in front of the fan.
People up north are also filling up their baths, but for a different reason: so that they will have drinking water tomorrow if the cyclone knocks out mains supplies.
The birds have all gone, from the cities and from the rainforest up there. Fled before the storm. I heard someone who lives north of Cairns on the radio this afternoon, saying it was ‘eerily silent ‘ The creatures can sense the cyclone long before the winds come up.
Waiting for the cyclone to hit . Thinking of friends and acquaintances in Cairns. That extraordinary satellite/radar image, the huge psychedelic swirl of colours. Beautiful, enormous, terrifying. I can’t stop thinking about it. What would I take with me if I had to leave my house, knowing it was about to be blown away? All those people camping in the big shopping centre, reading books, playing cards, snoozing on sun lounges. Waiting. Surreal, apocalyptic times.
Meanwhile, I water the garden at dusk. It’s a warm summer evening, insects chirruping.
1 comment:
Watering the garden in the warm evening while waiting for a psychedelic tv cyclone. And the cold bath. Everything seems surreal indeed. And despite all, beautiful, strong images.
Post a Comment