It’s Summer in my home town of Newcastle.
Right now we are in a recurring cycle of extreme heat, some respite, extreme heat. Soaring 40+ temperatures (that’s 104+ degrees Fahrenheit if you’re reading this overseas) followed by soupy humidity building reluctant storms that whisper rather than shout. As I write this, the temperature gauge says its 37 degrees outside right now. Yeah, it’s bloody hot.
Six weeks of school holidays. The heat hasn’t really stopped us. Christmas parties, New Year catch-ups, swimming at the local pool, beach days, bush walks, afternoons on the deck, ice cubes in drinks and sunset strolls – this filled our time and fed our souls.
But now the holidays are over. My girl started back at school today with everyone else. Parents were scattered about the school yard this morning, some wistfully watching their children run to friends, some relieved at no longer facing the challenge of finding “things to do”. The local pool car park, overflowing in recent weeks, looked empty and hot. Peak hour traffickers swore as school zone signs flared to life for the first time this year. Our days of sleep-ins, eating only when hungry and watching late, late movies now over as the routine of school and work took hold again.
Summer holidays in Newie: sun, sand, surf, salt water, sticky ice cream fingers, cool nor’easters and car seats that’ll burn your bum. I’m sad to see it go.