Part of this work week saw me depart home at 5am for a 3 hourish train journey north to work for a day and return after the work day ended. It was an interesting journey, because the first portion of it covered what used to be my commute from the coast to work and back, so it was a poignant time and stirred memories.
Past Wyong, the sun was rising and up and I could see the water sitting beside the tracks ( and incidentally Wyong Race Course looked like a Lake. So it was obvious all the rain last week had certainly led to flooding all the way up the Coast.
Australia is a country of extremes and has ever been so in recorded history. It bemused and befuddled the initial British inhabitants as it is so different to what they had previously known. Floods, scorching heat, bushfires raging, drought, famine. Ever a challenge. My country.
I suppose too we who are Australian are laconic and a tad iconoclastic. We face absolute disaster with black humour, muck in and help where we can, and have the innovative skills to develop all sorts of plan b’s that work. I suppose the type of value system we aspire to an espouse has been forged in the same beautiful harshness, and surprising unexpected grace has been forged in where we are.
Ack…too thoughtful. Can’t wax poetic. Need more coffee…