Rain!

Rain at last! It will take a lot more rain before the drought is broken – but it’s a start.

Dorothea Mackeller, in her poem, “I love a sunburnt country”, describes it so beautifully, in the fourth verse:

Core of my country. Her pitiless blue sky

when sick at heart around us, we see the cattle die.

But then the grey clouds gather, and we can bless again

The drumming of an army

The Steady, Soaking Rain.

The steady, soaking rain.

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