Recently in Drought Category

Weathered copper wiring and piping which have been burnt

cannot tell of the horror of the 7^th February, 2009, but there is a strange kind of beauty in this photograph. Nor can it tell of the sheer terror that we heard voiced to us on Sunday, as we were privileged to meet a family whose business was destroyed in the fires, and despite everything hopes live on.

Rebuilding is a slow process, and fresh green shoots sprouting on blackened tree trunks, an old wheelbarrow planted with some flowers to brighten the bleak landscape.

Looking upwards, on this wintry day (seven degrees C) we saw snow on the distant hills, and the nearer ridge shows the stark outline of fire ravaged trees, a black lacy edging to the mountain.

Australia remains in the grip of drought, and it seems odd to be writing that it's been raining on and off in the last twenty four hours.

Rain, hail, wind....

Brrrr, back to winter...

Yesterday was an unusually windy day for this time of the year, with gale force winds following the warmest May night on record, then later in the day some more rain. Not enormous amounts in the catchment areas, but lots in the West of the State, which will augur well for the coming year's crops.

This morning, the weather has turned cold, for Melbourne, and I know that 12 deg C is not usually classed as cold, but when we've been having days of 19 deg plus for weeks and weeks, it feels very cold, especially in the wind.

If we had had substantial rains in the water catchments, we would be all breathing collective sighs of relief, but unfortunately, the rain we've had over recent weeks has made virtually no difference to water storages so far. All we can hope is that the rain we've had so far will have soaked in, and will allow the rain that falls over coming months to run off into the catchments.

We still get excited when it rains at work, and stand up and look out the windows, hoping against hope that this rain will be the one that starts building up our water supplies and providing hope for the farming communities who have been struggling for so long.

Tomorrow, more rain is predicted, so once again, we wait...

Yesterday morning, I awoke to the sound of rain again. Still not drought breaking, but very welcome, all the same. And, instead of my usual drive to work, we had a day long meeting off site, in a trendy bayside location, so I had made plans to take public transport in, with a cab home later in the evening.

Equipped with an umbrella, and dressed in a warm coat, scarf and leather boots, I set off to catch the train, and luxuriated in the unaccustomed sights and sounds of bluestone gutters backing up with water, water rushing down the stormwater drains, and street lights reflecting off the footpaths and puddles. It's so long since we've had weather like this. And when we've been looking for rain for so long, it's impossible not to be cheerful about walking through puddles and having my hair get frizzy in the rain..

The rains have fallen across vast areas of South Australia, New South Wales and Victoria with substantial falls in Western New South Wales, and the Great Dividing Range. It's too soon to say whether the rain will benefit runoff in the Murray Darling catchment, as once again, follow up will be needed in the next couple of weeks.

I must have got lost in reverie, because even though I thought I had plenty of time to catch the train, I missed it by just a few seconds. Even missing the train was not enough to dampen my spirits on such a day.

Those who read these pages in the colder climates than this one, will probably be amused at the thought of Melbournians beginning to don winter clothes when the top day time temperature is 18 degrees C. We've had an extraordinary run of relatively warm weather this Autumn, which has meant temperatures of more than 20 degrees for 21 days, and has lead to an average temperature this autumn several degrees warmer than normal.

But the run of warmer weather seems to be over, and it's departure means that we are just not acclimatised to colder weather, so having some wind chill factor in the air, and a temperature that may measure 18 but feel more like 16 means we are scurrying to find our slippers, donning a jumper and craving warm, comfort food like soup and casseroles, and even snuggling up in a blanket on the couch in the evening to watch a football match or a movie on the TV.

Soon enough, we will be yearning once again for long, warm and sunny summer days, and the chatter of ABC radio in the background broadcasting the cricket, but it's time now to enjoy the approach of winter, with it's crisp temperatures, football games and indoor activities as we wait for the much anticipated winter rains.

Earlier this week, as I drove over the Westgate Bridge around 7am, heading East the sun was just beginning to show it’s face through a bank of dark lilac cloud over the Dandenong Ranges. The sky glowed rich apricot and gold, behind the city buildings and another cloud bank overhead washed in shades of lilac and grey . To the right five hot air balloons stretch towards the sky. Too far away to see the individual colours of the balloons, but near enough to see the glow of the burners flaring.

This morning, it was raining, and I was rushed to get to the car, fumbling with the remote lock buttons, trying to get it unlocked quickly, and achieving exactly the opposite. The view to the East as I drove over the Westgate was entirely different to that of earlier in the week, with the golden glow of the sun coming up behind the city buildings, then to the right lightning flashing in an enormous dark grey cloud bank. After the tunnel, the golden yellow of the sun rising gave an unusual glow to the sky, before the cloud bank moved across and obscured the sun, and the vista turned to grey.

At the moment, noone dares to complain about wet, damp weather, for Melbourne's water storages are down to 29% of capacity, (a forty year low) despite the recent rains, and we will be heavily dependent on rain which falls in the next six months to mitigate our water supply situation.

There's been rain in some parts of Victoria and South Australia over the past few days, with falls of up to 60 mm or so in the west of Victoria but much less in some areas, so it's too early to call it a widespread break to the drought, but it's a good start.

Humid conditions today, and the promise of thunderstorms both today and tomorrow, and another weather system early next week, may mean that the start of the recovery may just be beginning.

The rain we have had has been gentle, and when the soil is parched to the point of repelling water, it's the best way for it to fall, because the gradual moistening of the soil, reduces the effect of months of dry conditions.

Dorothea McKellar wrote about her love for Australia and the breaking of a drought, many years ago in her poem: My Country

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins.
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
Brown streams and soft, dim skies -
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!

The stark white ring-barked forests,
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon,
Green tangle of the brushes
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops,
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When, sick at heart, around us
We see the cattle die –
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the rainbow gold,
For flood and fire and famine
She pays us back threefold.
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

Over a number of posts over the last nine months or so, I have mentioned that much of Australia is suffering from a drought, and as yet, despite the coming of autumn, the much hoped for autumn break (which would break the drought) is yet to come, despite a little rain last month.

The media has been in a frenzy since the announcement from the Prime Minister on Thursday last week that there will be no water allocated for irrigation in the Murray Darling basin for the next season, if we do not get heavy rain in the next six to eight weeks. Indeed, the city of Adelaide has 40 days of water left. An emergency weir is being built to try to extend the water availability. Many other cities have very low levels of water storage available also, often at historical low levels.

The cost to individual farmers, related businesses and the national economy will be enormous, due to our heavy reliance on irrigation for a number of agricultural industries over a wide geographical area. There will be a severe impact on any industry that relies on water for irrigation from the Murray Darling river systems.

What has largely been forgotten in this announcement is that dry conditions have also impacted severely on dryland farmers who have not had the benefit of irrigation to support their agricultural ventures.

The reality is that this country is one which even without global warming is prone to extremes of climates. We suffer from droughts on a regular basis, and these droughts are often broken by floods, which is a cruel irony. Bushfires, too, are something that everyone who lives in rural Australia need to come to terms with, and be prepared for.

Unfortunately, this drought is already the worst since European settlement of the country. We are experiencing water restrictions at varying levels of severity across vast areas of the country. If global warming is indeed the reason for the severity of this drought, then we must prepare ourselves for making changes to the way we live. We've been living in a comfort zone of seemingly unlimited water supplies, and we now find this to have been an illusion.

As a result of the dilemma we find ourselves in, people are beginning to make changes to the way that we do things. Some are re-assessing what they grow in their gardens, and pulling out water hungry English garden plants such as English Box, and English species of lawns replacing them with more drought tolerant species. Other things that can be done include installation of rain water tanks, recycling of grey water, shortening shower times.

Already, we've become accustomed to not being able to water gardens, to not washing down concrete paths and driveways, and thinking about how we use water.

A little rain yesterday teased us, and reminds us that we will need substantial rain over an extended period of time to alleviate the problems which face us.

Taking the familiar road, heading West, it's clear that the rain we had a couple of weeks ago is not yet a harbinger of a break to the drought. Denuded paddocks, the remains of sheep feeding trails on nearby hillsides remind me that despite much stricter water restrictions in the big city, we are insulated from the daily drudgery of livestock feeding and the bleached vistas of parched countryside at every angle that the members of the farming community must cope with every day.

My enjoyment of the three hour drive is assured by several of my favourite CDs, and the kilometers fly by. As always, the outside temperature drops approaching Ballarat, but soon begin to rise again, on the other side.

Familiar turnoffs on the road call me, bringing to mind memories of people and places from previous times, but this time the destination is further on, a lunch at Halls Gap.

Past Moyston, on my first trip to this area since the bushfires of January 2006, blackened tree trunks and charred tree stumps stand as a testament to the conflagration which devastated this area as it passed.

Here also, on the roadside, is a memorial to two lives lost on that dreadful day, as they tried to flee the roaring wind and deadly heat.

There is also a spirit of renewal and hope with many trees having sprouted new growth over the past fifteen months. The residents have been working hard on the clean up, and making a fresh start.

Conversation, laughter, excellent food and a glass of wine, with the re-telling of some familiar stories, and some new ones too. Inspiration in the stories: an uncle who was told when he moved to the area 53 years before, "keep up your insurance", and a recognition that living and working in the Australian bush is a risky business

Even in the green oasis that is Halls Gap, there is a reminder of the drought, as we watch a brief dust storm blow down the main street. Clearly, it's not over yet. I can't imagine what it must have been like to be in this town last year when bushfires were burning on the mountains all around, but it all seems back to normality now.

All too soon, it's time to retrace my steps and begin the journey home, for I have another commitment in the big city which cannot wait.

We've had a little rain here in Melbourne overnight and this morning, but not enough to break the drought. North of the ranges, there have been some useful falls, but follow up rain will be needed.

The only problem is that the Bureau of Meteorology has predicted temperatures of 33 deg later in the week, so the effects of the rain may be very short lived.