Subtle Traits That Define The Australian Springtime
January 21, 2023 · 3 min · 540 words · Karlene Bush
And immediately packing away all your coats, woollens and winter blankies, because “summer’s a-coming, friends!”
Then spending the entirety of September freezing your tits off, because it’s really not that much warmer than the miserable winter you just endured.
Including being sand-whipped repeatedly in the face the moment you dare to try and enjoy a cheeky beach day.
And making peace with the fact that any cutesy, springtime picnic plans will likely be ruined by a swarm of flies, anxious to lay eggs in your brie.
Not to mention, the return of the cockroaches — stronger and cockier than ever, after their wintery hibernation.
Or a pair of Birkenstocks, if you’re bougie like that.
Welcoming the return of that cold-hearted bitch, La Niña, after enjoying approximately 10 weeks’ reprieve from the biblical-proportions of rainfall.
And grieving intensely as all your outdoor weekend plans turn to shit once more.
But forgetting that the sea takes at least four months to heat up and getting hypothermia the moment you attempt to swim.
As well as the armies of blue bottles that long to wrap their stingy tentacles around your neck.
And ending up burnt, blistered and peeling for a solid fortnight after your big beach outing.
Fighting the urge not to scream out your car window at the hordes of would-be influencers on jacaranda-lined streets.
Or — heaven forbid — taking a walk down a jacaranda street yourself and slipping over on all those wet, slimy, lavender-hued leaves.
But hating how fucked up your body-clock is in the immediate mornings that follow.
Putting up with weeks of household trash and furniture littered all over the street curbs in the name of “spring cleaning”.
But secretly enjoying the opportunity to dumpster dive for your own trash-to-treasure discoveries.
And having to convince anyone near you that “it’s just allergies, not COVID!”
But freaking out a little yourself, when the sneezing lasts for days on end.
Loading up once more on all the Damp Rid that money can buy.
And running your dehumidifier for 24 hours a day, in a desperate attempt to outwit your home’s greatest adversary: mould.
For the magpie is a cruel and unforgiving mistress, who will peck out your eyes for sport.
Finding it impossible to dress for the weather when it changes from “my nipples could cut glass” to “my lower-back is drenched in sweat” over the course of a 500 metre stroll.
And being spoilt for choice when it comes to stone fruits — meaning you can load up on mangos and lychees and peaches, oh my!
Yearning to embrace the merriment and chaotic good of “spooky season”, but being let down by Australia’s lacklustre approach to Halloween.
So having to make good with just a single weekend of Halloween festivities — where half your friends don’t even bother dressing up.
And attempting to recreate some of the ~cosy fall aesthetic~ at home by trying a DIY pumpkin spice latte.
And pretentiously asserting “it’s because the minimum temperatures are still so low” — to anyone who will listen.
While complaining incessantly that you just want summer to arrive.
Until that unrelenting heat finally arrives on December 1 — and you realise just how good you had it during spring.