..And what we have here is a sunburnt city (or “town” if you’re a Sydney-sider or Melbourne-ite who refuses to promote Brisbane to city-dom – not that being a town is a bad thing.. it’s just a matter of .. umm .. pride .. or something).
I was fortunate enough to be walking around the streets of Stones Corner and the Valley yesterday when Brisbane’s summer decided to truly start. Ohmigosh. Thirty-plus degrees (how I wish that was farenheit!) and extreme humidity. At least, that’s what it felt like and you don’t need to be a meteorologist to know if it’s hot.
The Sun, giver of life, has turned against us! What dastardly being set this self-perpetuating downward spiral into motion? We deplete a few rainforests and climatic extremes broaden! Now, in our attempts to alter temperature for our own comfort, we stretch these extremes still further! Do we have no choice but to continue down this spiral until we perish when we fail to reverse nature’s cruelty?
Yes, this is the Brisbane summer I know and loathe – I mean love… totally… How can you not love Brisbane summers?
They give us such a wonderful excuse to slack off (good old Friday afternoons in BCT) and just laze around in front of some temperature-adjusting-thingo (also known as an air conditioner) or go and laze around someplace else that has climate control (namely shopping centres, cinemas, libraries and even art galleries and museums – I’m quite sure those last two ought to have the coolest air-con seeing as they got to protect all that valuable stuff from melting away and all).
Brisbane summers are the best time for dreaming: dreaming about far, far away places (most commonly places in the northern hemisphere covered in snow and with frozen lakes or something) and dreaming about the year that has been and the year that will be (with a focus on the winter months and maybe late autumn, too).
And when the heat isn’t searing hot outside, the sky comes alive with thunder (I never realised what a strange word “thunder” is until now), lightning and rain (and hail if you’re lucky). Of course, this only provides temporary relief (or none at all if you get a blackout and your temperature-adjusting-thingos must cease operation for a while, leaving you with the small consolation of having an opportunity to light candles … not that anyone’s silly enough to play with fire – they’re just pretty … ) until you are left with even greater humidity and a whole lot of mud.
Oh, what a shame I’m going to be missing out on a whole three weeks of it. To those who are stuck in Brisbane (or stay purely by choice), good luck to you.