When leaving my 'sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains' and moving across the Tasman, I never imagined that the word 'drought' would be used to describe New Zealand. I understood New Zealand to be the land of green grandeur, rolling hills of lush grass, substantial rainforests, lakes, glacial streams and waterfalls. Water, water, everywhere. Our first two summers here were described to us as ‘dry’ and drought ridden, which we couldn't balance with our Aussie appreciation of the terms. The fields remained green the creeks still flowed and it continued to rain enough to maintain these elements of the New Zealand environment. This summer has changed all of that. By the end of autumn, the rolling hills had already begun to look unfamiliar to the impression I had acquired up to this point of time. The local landscape has begun to appear more like our Aussie farm in autumn as the rain dries up and the greases all die – not yet brown, but no longer green either – a painful moment between seasons when I would realise the cool and comfortable winter has passed and the harshness of summer is about to strike. So, the desire for more rain which played out its annual cycle in Australia has followed us to New Zealand. You can guess what I will be hoping for Christmas this year……..
