Winter was wet, but not cold. We had one particularly chilly Thursday the other week when even I wasn’t shouting at the kids to turn that bloody heater off and put on a jumper, but other than that it’s been mild, mild, mild.
There’s still plenty of time for backwards steps and icy blasts but there are also signs that spring is just starting to uncoil herself. I heard figbirds in the trees in Richardson Park, though for one day only. Perhaps they’re the forward lines of the summer migrants and are now squabbling around in Sydney or Wollongong. Then there was a gorgeous Boreas Road sunset one evening.
There are more raptors in the gasworks – kites, falcons and hawks – so there must be more of the burrowing and creeping stuff that makes up the base of the food pyramid. Jambo has started scaring the bejesus out of the ducklings in the creek, and the wattles are blooming …
… and the fuchsias, the ones left over from the days when a manager lived on the grounds and kept a garden.
The bamboo grass in the gasworks is tall and bent and dry and needs a good fire through it, though I doubt the people at ELGAS would agree. There was a big fire up at Hexham the other night, which looked pretty speccy from where I was standing.
People are getting out and about too. More footprints and cycle tracks down the creek, holes reappearing in the chain-link fence around the gasworks, and even folk out for a Sunday promenade. These blokes had just read The Book and were making themselves acquainted with the lovely botanical gardens on their doorstep.
Yes, a change is a comin’. Dig out your shorts and pluggers: it’ll be baking before you know it.