The Shifting Seasons And The Unyielding Spirit Of The Land
Autumn arrives not with a whisper, but with a test. We were spared the worst of Cyclone Alfred, yet the relentless rains still carved their mark upon the land. And just as the storms relented, a new challenge emerged—roving stags, their hunger untempered, pillaging our vegetable fields in their nightly feasts. The bowerbirds, too, have turned their appetites from insects to our tender greens, feasting upon the young seedlings we so carefully transplanted. What the prolonged rains weakened, the sudden surge of heat—days soaring beyond 30°C—became the final death knell. It feels as though we are being tested on all fronts, the transition between summer and autumn demanding our patience and resilience. Each passing year, March seems to slip further from autumn’s grasp, lingering instead in the clutches of an ever-extending summer. This shift is no longer subtle; it is undeniable. March, once a critical time for planting winter crops, now bears the weight of hotter, wetter conditions that threaten both seedlings and soil alike. We are left to wonder: can we continue as we have, or must we adapt to a new rhythm dictated by a changing climate?