Ummm, Spring?

It’s lovely to see you, of course- your clear early mornings, birdsong calling us out of our beds into the day, the world humming with sunshine and blossom under blue ,blue skies. You’re a lovely time of year.

 But, you see, we were expecting Winter to arrive first… You know, that season where water falls from the skies and fills the dams and tanks, where the ground soaks until dust becomes mud and we squelch in our gumboots through gullies filled with knee high grass.

October last year

 Not this year. I don’t know what happened to Winter- sure, we had the odd shower, an occasional thunderstorm, and there was a week or two where we shivered into our woolly wear in the mornings. But no rain. Practically none. I don’t know where Winter took its rain, but it didn’t bring it here.

And what that means, Spring, is that no matter how warm your sunshine or how busy your bees, nothing can grow or thrive. The ground is rock hard or blowing dust, the tanks are empty, the crops struggle and the pastures are grazed bare by hungry sheep. Even the veggie garden looks as sad as it’s ever been.

My lettuces have seen better days

Artichoke- the only thing thriving in the veg patch

 After only half the usual rainfall for the year to date, we’ve given up watching the evening weather report and hoping for a miracle. I think it’s almost past the point of salvage. This is a really, really bad season.

For our city friends enjoying the warm spring weather and wondering why farmers are always whinging, think of it this way. Every day you go to work, taking pride in your work and pleasure in the income you’re expecting. Imagine that one day, the boss announces that if there hasn’t been a semi-full rain gauge by the end of September, he’ll be shredding all your work for the year, and you won’t get paid. You’ll keep going in, slogging away at your projects, and hoping for rain, but as the days tick past and the skies stay clear, your boss starts stacking your files by the shredder and you start to wonder why you bother even turning up for work. That’s farming in a bad season. Psychiatrists and money men discussing suicide and selling up on the radio, grim faces exchanging greetings and damage reports at the farm supply shop, “chin up” events hosted by shires and recreation centres to distract everyone from the dry, wilting world around.

 So no offence, Spring, but can you please rack off and send Winter back to do its job? Cheers.

(Hang about- it’s the Royal Show next week- and it ALWAYS pours for at least one day of the Show… Fingers crossed!)