I always assumed Mother Nature was married to Father Time. If they are the romance has been rekindled, and if Martha and the Vandellas are to be believed, Mother Nature is in love.
I’m melting. Melbourne is currently the hottest place in the known universe. Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m pretty sure this is what hell feels like.
Here’s another potential explanation for all of you climate change activists. It isn’t carbon pollution. Mother nature has just hit menopause. And these 5 day heat waves are hot flashes on a planetary level. My menopause theory would explain the global hormone fluctuations seen in the catastrophic weather events. Think about it people. Floods are like random crying jags. Earthquake like anger erupting.
Whatever the cause, I need it to stop. My 15 minute walk to work has become abject torture. And not just because of the searing heat – heat that makes your skin prickle within seconds of stepping outside. But also because in Melbourne, on garbage day, people put their rank, rotting garbage bins, out on the front streets.
The olfactory assault is unprecedented. I have a very sensitive nose and I’ve smelled some pretty disgusting smells, but this..this actually stops my breath. As if my diaphragm has kindly decided to spare my nose and just stops inhaling, mid breath. Its kind of like being punched in the nose and the solar plexus at the same time.
As you know, I chose my apartment for its character. So needless to say, it does not have air-conditioning. So after struggling home, skin prickling, nose burning and diaphragm spasming, I arrive to a very large pizza oven. The only thing that got me through the evening?
I seriously need to take more care in choosing where I live next time.
I cannot believe I have 2 more days of this to go. My urge to get Mother Nature onto some HRT is only quelled by the increased cancer risk – in earth terms, more humans. And I like earth too much to do that to her.
The Shrinking Head 