Climate - Of Australia

The old man called himself the Climate of Australia, and he was tired.

He looked north, towards the Top End. There, his monsoon hand pulsed. For four months, he would open his fist and unleash the Gudjewg —the violent, electric storms that made the air thick as soup. Waterfalls would form on cliffs that had been dry for ten months. Crocodiles would swim across highways. The earth would drink and drink, and for a moment, the arroyos and billabongs would sing. He loved that sound. The mad, brief, glorious chorus of life exploding from dormancy. climate of australia

The old man had laughed. It sounded like a dry thunderclap. The old man called himself the Climate of