Australia · floods · history · Mount Warning · rain · realities · remembering · rivers · seasons · subtropical weather · summer · Tweed Valley

If you ask any old local, they will tell you this weather is to be expected.

The worst of the flood water has hit the low-lying villages of Tumbulgum and Condong today, with all residents being told to evacuate. I received a text message from the State Emergency Service (SES) advising of the evacuation, and posted the information to a local Murwillumbah community page that I am a member of. While on the page, I scrolled through a few announcements and photos added by other members. The flood waters are making a bit of a mess of the area, which is what happens when we have heavy and consistent rain. It’s sad to see the damage, and although I have lived in low-lying Murwillumbah myself and have been directly affected by flood waters, my concern for the residents of nearby, flood affected towns never wavers.

If anything, my concern now is greater. The population of the area has grown significantly over the years, therefore more people are affected when the river breaks its banks, which is what it did today at Tumbulgum. Over the years, however, there has been a shift in peoples’ attitudes towards flooding, and the suggested ways in which we should cope. Once, a new family to the area would discuss the situation over the fence with their neighbours, and learn what to expect and how to prepare for the rising waters. Now, the multitudes turn to social media. While the internet is a faster means of alerting the community, it is also a source of unnecessary alarm within the community. Social media is a platform where old locals and new residents alike can voice their opinion, be their opinion educated or otherwise. And I have noticed that it is mostly the relatively new people to town who feel they are justified in spruiking their ill-informed opinions.

After I posted the information regarding the evacuation notice from the SES, which included information on the designated evacuation sight in Murwillumbah, almost immediately I had a reply from Ms. Over-reactor – the main road into town is closed, how are people supposed to get there? Boat, I replied. I also added that the SES would take care of everything. A further reply was added by Ms. Over-reactor – thank goodness, she exclaimed.

I’m no authority on the matter, but my brief interaction with another community member was an example of one of several over-reactions I have read today. Are people spending so much time on social media, I wonder, that they have failed to discuss the possibility of the Tweed River flooding at some stage with the locals, prior to a flood? Did they not wonder what the white flood-level posts with black measurements painted on them, positioned strategically along the river banks where people would notice, were there for?

Already, the “blame climate change” brigade are making sure their voices are heard. This is proof of climate change, they wail. We must be kinder to the planet if we want this flood devastation to end, they proclaim. Historically, the weather has been changing ever-so-slightly for as long as time. Occasionally the earth has been subjected to a big shift – think the Ice Ages. Industry caused a few problems with the burning of the ozone layer, but measures were taken to reverse the damage. Yes, climate change does exist, just as it always has, so why is it talked about more now than ever before?

I believe the answer to that question involves a notable shift in people, rather than any notable shift in the temperatures. People have been handed the opportunity to be heard on a silver platter in recent years. The internet, and yes, social media, allows everyone to voice their opinions. Instantaneously, a previously unknown person on the other side of the world can have a knee-jerk reaction to a comment without first taking the time to consider the opinion. They respond. Before you know it, a massive row is bouncing back and forth across the planet between two strangers. Others join in, and others, and more and more people voice their opinions, becoming irate over … what exactly? Does the one-hundredth person who joined the argument – because that is what it has developed into – even know how it started? Do they care how it started? Or are they too busy “taking a stance” on the latest topic, complete with buzz-words and hyperbole?

Meanwhile, the old farmer from far northern New South Wales ponders the questions of climate change. He gazes into the flood waters and assures his neighbour, speaking in his gravelly old voice, “Nah, this isn’t climate change, saw the river rise higher than this back in ’74, I did. That’s why they built the levy bank along the town side of the river. You wouldn’t credit the rubbish we saw floatin’ through town that year. That’s when the water lapped the ceiling of all the shops in town. Same thing happened in ’54 too, the old folk used to say. Yeah mate, seen it all before …”

If you ask any old local, they will tell you this weather is to be expected. We live in a flood zone. It’s a subtropical climate, which means our rainy season arrives during summer – it’s summer now. There’s a major river in the area, the Tweed River, which floods, even when the rain isn’t pelting down. Today is one of those days – there’s hardly any rain about, but the run-off from the western catchment areas has now reached the low-lying areas. The river has swelled up from the excess water runoff and broken its bank, and people of the towns and villages are being evacuated.

And it’s not climate change, we’ve seen it all before, Ask any old local. They’ll set you straight on the matter.

 

 

Australia · clouds · daughter · floods · granddaughter · grandson · Mount Warning · palm trees · rain · rivers · subtropical weather · summer · Tweed Valley

The Rain Continues …

There was a brief break in the rain this afternoon, so I ventured outdoors with the two dogs to have a bit of a look around. I have spent most of the last two days indoors, watching the rain pelting down and the wind ripping at the trees in my garden. As the first photo shows, looking down towards the pool, debris from the palm trees is piled beside the pool and floating in the water. There’ll be a big clean-up down there next weekend!

What looks like a massive pond in the valley is actually water-filled sugar cane fields.

Low-lying land pockets as far as the eye can see are filled with rain water.

And no surprises here, the mountain is still hiding behind a thick, white veil.

It looks like there are two rivers running parallel to one another. The actual river can be glimpsed behind the row of trees in the photo above. The other “river” in the foreground is flood water.

The river ran across roads in many areas, and people were advised not to go out unless they had to. My daughter, Hayley, went out as she had an appointment for her 20 week ultrasound. Luckily, her husband drove her to the appointment in their four-wheel-drive ute. From there they took the sealed envelope that had been given to them to our local balloon shop to have a special balloon made. The envelope contained a card with the gender of her baby on it. 🙂

Aurora, who is to be a big sister, was pretty excited about popping the balloon ~~ Mummy and Daddy were excited to see what colour confetti was in the balloon ~~

It’s a boy! ❤

Australia · floods · Mount Warning · native Australian birds · rain · rivers · subtropical weather · summer · Tweed Valley

(Almost) Silent Sunday

The Magpie family, taking refuge from the rain on my back veranda clothes line.
No sign of the mountain today.
Heavy rain continued overnight. This morning, several cane fields are filled with water. Many local roads are closed where the Tweed River has broken its banks.
More heavy rain is forecast for tonight and tomorrow. 
Australia · birds · clouds · colours · Mount Warning · native Australian birds · rain · subtropical weather · summer · Tweed Valley

Well, I did wish for rain …

They do say “be careful what you wish for,” don’t they? Whoever “they” are, they could be onto something. After quite a lengthy dry spell, and a couple of days of drizzle, tonight we have torrential rain.

I can hear the TV cutting in and out in another room, as the heavy rainfall messes with transmission. I think I’d better type fast, just in case we lose power.

The rain didn’t seem to dampen the spirits of the usual morning breakfast crew, who all arrived bright and early asking for a morsel of food. The kookaburras looked like they were all having a bad-hair day, while the others, baby Magpie, the Pee Wee, and my little Butcher Bird, Hoppy, with the gammy leg, all appeared wet, but quite composed.

The valley looked quite magnificent this morning, with crisp green fields, and patches of white cloud dotted across the brilliant blueness of Mount Warning. It looked so gorgeous that I thought I’d take a walk down to the back boundary to get a photo of the uninterrupted view.

I even got as far as pulling on my gum boots and going outside. A sprinkle of rain won’t hurt me, I thought. I had only walked a few steps past the edge of the veranda though when a heavy downpour sent me scurrying back to shelter. And would you believe the maximum temperature today reached 20°C? I spent the day wearing jeans and a jumper ~ in December!

The white on blue looked so good today, I just had to zoom in on the mountain, even though I had to take the photo standing close to the house.

Maybe tomorrow the rain will ease up a touch, even if its just long enough to take a broad view photo of the valley for Silent Sunday. 🙂