It started raining mid morning last Thursday. Light rain for a while, then a little heavier, then it would stop, and spit here and there. Then it would start again. It was dead still, not a breath of wind, the sky overhead grey, it was hard to see.
Disbelieving the rain had set in for the day, I drove to Pat's on the other side of town to do a couple of hours gardening. The weather bureau had forecast six days of showers from the Tuesday but there'd been nothing till Thursday. I started digging a trench for sheets of old iron around a narrow garden bed where Pat wants to grow vegetables. The iron is to keep out the rabbits, and sinking it lower lets in more early sun. I worked in a plastic raincoat and gumboots. Within half an hour my singlet and shirt were wet with sweat. I discarded the coat, prefering the cool rain to the heat and sweat under the coat.
I knocked off wet through and had to change clothes when I got home. I'd left a young bloke laying new carpet in our living room. He'd finished and gone, so Gord and I spent some time carting furniture back in from the deck. On and off the rain continued through the afternoon while I did some business with the bank and solicitor in Emerald.
I had an appointment with my arborist friend Steve Major at 4.00pm in Nobelius Park. At a recent meeting of the sub-committee of the COM, numerous trees and shrubs in zones 1+2, the zones designated by the Vegetation Management Plan as of high priority with action required in the short term, had been earmarked for removal to make way for new plantings. We need quotes on the proposed work. The rain had stopped but it was wet underfoot and we enjoyed the squelching of our boots as we walked. It was eerily calm.
The rain started again in the evening, leaving 25ml in the gauge on Friday morning. On my walk it was raining lightly still. I was aware of strong scents coming to me after the night rain. I could smell the gravel and the bark of trees, and stench from faulty septic systems. Blackbirds, rosellas, crows, magpies, mudlarks, minas, cockatoos, doves, all were busy, noisier than for a long time. I realized how subdued they'd had been of late. The trees and shrubs were washed of their coat of dust and the various shades of green were richer, glistening, wet, leaves like thousands of smiles.
The morning news talked of rain up to 50ml in parts of western Victoria, to follow good rain in early May. 36ml Bendigo, 66 ml at Broken Hill, 30-50 ml in north-east Vic. All drought ravaged areas. Best rain in years. Farmers are out getting crops in, working round the clock.
On my way to the farm I picked some bay foliage at Allison's in Le Souef Rd. and topped a laurel in front of Lilly's unit at Emerald. Lilly is my best honey customer, getting sales from all the oldies in the retirement village. They love the honey. And my price. I'm happy, $6 is better than the $2.50 per kg the wholesaler told me he'd pay me when I rang up have some containers posted.
After lunch the rain started again, heavily. I went out to bunch the bay and the laurel. Jod and Gordo came in under the carport to dodge the rain. They started bunching the bay while Meredith and I worked on the laurel. It was now teeming, sheets of water lying on the lawn and drive, the likes of which we hadn't seen since who knows when. On cue frogs started to let rip, singing with sheer joy. I said to Meredith the birds were so noisy that morning, like they were celebrating, and she replied she'd noticed it too, and that they'd been so quiet previously. We were all happy, watching the rain.
Jod said, "There's old saying, as happy as bird in a tree."
And for the last two mornings I've collected pine mushrooms on my walk and enjoyed them for breakfast.
