Melbourne Weather is…

“Batshit-Insane”

An Australian colloquialism to describe something or someone that has crossed into the realm of insanity. My home country goes for the more politically incorrect “Chicken Oriental”, which translated from cockney is “mental”. As I write, I’m intrigued as how the Londoners arrived at this however long ago, but that’s for another day.

The post today was meant to be a narrative on my thoughts as we transition from one season to another. When I look out my townhouse window into the blue sparkles of the Melbourne skyline, I think “Melbourne Weather”… it’s Batshit-insane!

Now, it’s no secret. Melbourne has been the butt of all “four seasons in a day” jokes for as long as I can remember. Okay, not true. I only found out about it when I moved here 13 odd years ago. But since then, it has lived up to it’s reputation.

Take this weekend, for example. We woke up to  a beautifully sunny Saturday stretching into the mid-twenties. Children were playing on the street. Young professionals were catching up on their washing, cleaning out their balconies, and exchanging pleasantries with the tradies at the building site (the last part may have been just me). It was a 1950s, let’s go get some ice cream from the musical man outside the park kind of day. I even spent the evening on my balcony with a glass of wine and my Japanese Sobo noodles. Once finished, I watched the near perfect sunset sink over the horizon as I retreated to my bedroom.

The next morning… thud thud, whoo, whoo. The walls were shaking, the gutter clanging, and it was damn near freezing. Outside the sky was a dark mean-looking grey. My phone was alight with weather warning messages “Gale force winds expected in Melbourne”… yeah, no kidding! I pulled on my jumper and watched as the trees bowed down to the ground and watched the network cables flapping in the wind, as the internet dropped in and out. It was a painful day for an online fiend (me). I, being the oh so wise one, ventured outside in the storm and walked to the local centre, where whilst waiting at the bus stop, the pole decided to kiss the earth. The wind howled above my head as I stood upon the empty street opposite a very empty church [insert opening scene to horror movie]. It was ‘batshit-insane’ weather, which two days later the city is still cleaning up.

So that was my weekend, we started in summer and ended in winter. A Melbournian calls it ‘Spring’.

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