Change of Seasons

I love this time of year in Sydney. The winter quilts come off & they're stowed at the top of the wardrobe until next May. The weather is not very hot yet, not as hot as it will get over the next five months. It's warm enough to go about with thin cotton clothing, no sleeves, shorts, but not so hot that you have to cover up and race for shade to escape the baking radiance of the sun.

On Botany Bay, the kiteboarders get out in the wind and ride the choppy water.


In November the jacarandas bloom: lovely exotics. Strong perfume of jasmine on the night breeze and the Christmas trees turning pink and then red. No Christmas beetles these days, though. When I was a child, November and December meant flying hordes of them. My brothers caught them, raced them in competitions. Colours like gemstones.


And more recently in Sydney, November means Sculpture by the Sea, ranged along the cliff walk from Tamarama to Bondi Beach.

Blood Red Dawn

Wednesday morning 23rd of September 2009 will be remembered for a long time in Sydney. It was the day we woke up to blood in the sky and dust in our mouths. Can't make out the first photo? It was what I saw at 6.15 or so that morning. For contrast, the second photo was taken around the same time on Saturday (this) morning. Still strange, other worldly, but with the red leached out. The third photo was taken around three hours later this morning. You can see a horizon, the other side of Botany Bay. You can even see a container ship approaching the docks on the far right if you look hard. The sky is once again blue-ish.

Another dust storm today. I could not remember a dust storm in Sydney, though I did spend more than ten years out of the country. The papers vindicated my memories: although weather bureau records show that dust storms have swept Sydney before, in 1994 I was out of the country; in '68 I don't know what I was doing, but I don't remember it; in '57 I was too young to remember anything and in '42 I wasn't even a twinkle in my father's eye.

The dust which blew over Sydney was estimated to weigh one quarter of the weight of Uluru, that Australian icon situated in the centre of the continent. The origin of the dust which still blankets Sydney was the area around the salt lakes of South Australia (about 1,500 kilometres away) and northern NSW. (These areas have been in drought for eight years.) A couple of weeks ago, scientists were studying this very dust on the snow of Mt Hutt in New Zealand.

Sometime this week I will take a photo at the same time of day as the first and second above to demonstrate the difference between what I see every morning and what I saw on Wednesday.