Phoney Spring

The Phoney Spring continues here in Canberra. Mid-September you get this brief tease of sunshine, some blossoms, a bit of pollen up your nose, just enough to tantalise and make you rip off flanny sheets and put away winter woolies and realise how horribly pale you are. Then it all disappears in a burst of storm and chilly days. Mother Nature is such a nasty bitch, she waits and watches then makes it go cold precisely on the day you' decided to wear summery shoes and short sleeves for the first time, everyone else at work is all rugged up and random strangers announce that they can see your nipples.

And it rains a lot in the Phoney Spring. Not nice warm spring rain but mean, icy rain that turns our yard into a mud bath. I take Harry out for a walk and his fur is filthy and clumped together like an old fluffy dressing gown. It sounds like rain outside but it's hard to tell if it's an actual shower or if it's stopped and the trees are wringing themselves dry. They always seem to wait until you're right under them to squeeze out a big, messy glob on top of your head. It's that Mother Nature again, you see, she really has it in for me.