Late summer in the sub-tropics is the perfect time to write.
It’s so unbelievably hot and sunny that the Bureau of Meteorology website is now measuring UV17, when the highest rating was sensibly once-upon-a-time UV10. You can’t move, you can’t go outside, all you can do is sit in front of a fan with an ice pack around your neck.
And then there’s the stillness. Every other poor bastard is in the same situation likely they are at home in the air conditioning (we don’t have it), or else gathered collectively at someone’s place drinking beer and sweating it out together.
This means minimal distractions.
You can also legitimately sit naked in the cooling shade of the afternoon verandah, watch the dusk colour the hills and let your imagination frolic in the breeze. It’s only a hop, skip and a jump to the computer or even a pad and pen while basking in the baby pool. There are advantages to not having all the mod-cons.
And best of all, you’ve had all summer and spring before that to ruminate and itch and twitch all those ideas about.
And even better, if you still feel you need some inspiration, it’s perfectly acceptable to blend up large amounts of watermelon, cucumber, mint, lime, ice and vodka.
(And that, my friends, is a fairly typical, possibly old school but still in parlance, Australian way of talking about yourself. Everyone knows you’re talking about you, but that second person point of view just helps everyone get along a little and feel a little bit included. It even lets you get away with a bit of slap dash overuse of superlatives.)