Last week, the air was stickier than a geckos’ foot as the wretched northerlies continued blowing hot, muggy winds over our region. So when news broke that rain of Biblical proportions was coming, we all got a little excited.
Late Friday afternoon, after the stampede for booze, bread, milk, more booze and toilet paper had died down, we manically checked and re-checked the BOM and Higgins’ sites like OCD sufferers.
‘I wandered back inside with a fresh perm, courtesy of the rampant humidity…’
Meanwhile, debate raged online if Gladstone was going to cop the storms or not. Chicken Littles’ cried, ‘The sky’s about to fall!’, while others moaned that the ‘Gladstone Dome’, an invisible shield covering our village, will deflect any approaching rain; again.
Mind you, nobody was complaining last year when the dome ricocheted Cyclone Marcia away from us and towards Biloela.
Risking death by heat stroke, I pottered outside and noted that the northerlies were still blowing any chance of rain away. Plus, the Sleeping Giant’s beard was clearly showing, and I recalled an old local saying, “No clouds covering Mt. Larcom? Then no rain.”
So far that stony beard has been a better weather predictor than all the experts and satellites combined.
I wandered back inside with a fresh perm, courtesy of the rampant humidity, and mumbled, “No rain today.” Several electronic devices were thrust under my nose to prove me wrong; but the Giant was right.
So from now on, I’ll be keeping a weather eye the Sleeping Giant’s beard, because it appears everything else is just hot air.