Hey, it's a heatwave Down Under - no snow, no freezing weather, just good old-fashioned sizzling heat.

40 degrees Celsius = 104 degrees Fahrenheit 

50 degrees Celsius = 122 degrees Fahrenheit

Hello there!

We live in an alternate universe Down Under, where the weather from the Northern Hemisphere saturates our news, but our own weather hardly rates a mention. Polar Vortexes, Sub Zero temperatures, high winds and destruction - so much more exciting than boring old heatwaves and the consequences. Australian weather? We just accept that it's summer, so we expect ridiculously-high temps, with drought/and/or floods/and/or bushfires/and/or cyclones thrown in. What's new? It happens every year when December rolls around. (Funnily enough, that's when I escape to the Northern Hemisphere, being someone who prefers cold to heat, lol!)

The fact that this heatwave has been in full force for about two months, makes it a bit harder to ignore. So I thought I'd do a post and show you a typical day in Australia during 40 - 50 degree Celsius temperatures (Conversion at top). 

This photo was taken near Brisbane (where I live), on a day when it was expected to reach 50C. I think it only got to 46C. Welooked at the sunrise, and commented - 'Looks like we're in for it!'

So if you're lucky enough to be at the beach on the Sunshine Coast for the weekend, you head to the wonderful Baked Poetry Cafe in Peregian Beach and imbibe a cooling iced coffee - bliss!

Baked Poetry Cafe iced coffee, the best I've ever tasted!

Okay, you can't sit there under the shady trees drinking coffee all day, even if it's 46C, so let's head for the beach! Yeah, yeah, I know, you shouldn't be sunbaking in this heat, but what the heck! You can easily cool off with a refreshing dunk!

If you can't get to the beach, you might cool off under the moisture fans wherever you see one!

But we coast dwellers always remember the Outback, where there's no beach and little water for pools - (they head for the nearest dam)...drought is severe and stock are dying. 

The Australian Outback...always sizzling! A great setting for Australian romances...from Australian authors like Annie Seaton, Jenny Schwartz, Anna Campbell et al...

Our native koala is parched too. Anywhere for a drink! Lucky suburban koalas.


Bushfires always abound in summer, especially in 40C+ heat and in the south where the heat is dry! Queensland where I live is humid.

Victoria, in the south of Australia, has had on-going bushfires for weeks. They're really suffering. Many homes have been burnt to the ground.

And of course, it's not a Queensland summer without bushfires. Here's one on North Stradbroke Island, off the coast near Brisbane.

It was 54C this day!

What about writing? Not easy in the heat...



Too hot to be inside, so the Vannguard Writers Group met at the Coffee Club in the city and participated in a writing exercise at the Wednesday Farmer's Market.



My youngest daughter lives in Townsville, where they've already had their first cyclone scare for the year. Luckily, Townsville was spared. It hit the towns to the south, but not too badly.




At the end of another unbearably hot day in Brisbane, you head to South Bank beach, which is open all year round, well into the night.

Too hot to go home to bed, so you may as well take a ride on the Brisbane Wheel.



Ha ha! I hope you enjoyed my photo essay. And the good news is that it has cooled down a little!

• Speaking of Australia, Australian author and friend, Charmaine Clancy, has just released her third MG novel - Undead Kev. Kev follows on from My Zombie Dog and Dognapped?

And I'm looking forward to seeing the movie, Tracks, where a young woman goes on a 1,700 mile trek across the deserts of Western Australia with her four camels and faithful dog. Drama/Biography/Adventure

And finally, let's all cheer our friend Roland Yeomans up by visiting him after his facial surgery. D.G. Hudson has a brilliant post on Roland's progress and his novels. 

Never-ending scene Blogfest - Dancing upon the mountains like black rain

Thank you Brenda Drake for hosting this blogfest. My entry in the cliffhanger blogfest is an extract from a short story I wrote after the horrendous Victorian bushfires over twelve months ago. Many people who’d had a tree change move to the serene wooded hill towns outside Melbourne perished as fire swept through, virtually unstoppable, destroying all in its path.

I begin my short extract when the MC, Jilly, had just spoken to the fire authority and alerted them to a fire in her area. One of the problems with the Victorian fires was the lack of responsiveness/resources of the fire-fighting authorities. Many perished because of this. Read on…

Dancing upon the Mountains like Black Rain

Her Fire Plan? 

Jilly slammed the phone down. Oh, God! She was horrified to see the smoke on the ridge had grown from a wisp to a red twister. The red-orange-black flames were skittering along the ground gobbling the brown grasses and spitting out black stubble. A stiff breeze whipped the flames higher and higher. It was heading right for her.The gigantic wall of flame was growing before her eyes like a giant genie free from its bottle. She felt an icy creepiness throughout her body even though the temperature was at boiling point.

Where are the fire trucks?

Her knowledge of fires wouldn’t fill a water glass. She’d only just arrived from the city seeking peace and serenity. But even the rawest city slicker knew that water meant salvation. Thankfully the dam just down the hill was still half full from the previous season’s rains, the pump was primed, ready. C’mon. She dashed to the dam and checked the possibilities—did she have enough hose to saturate the house and fill the gutters? Running back up the hill, she clipped a hose to the back outdoor tap and tested it with a few squirts. Fine.

Okay, I have water.

Where…are…the fire trucks?

Running to the front of the house, she was mesmerised by smoke whirling up the hill in her direction. Oh my Lord! The wind had changed, the fire was coming. A wall of flame was heading her way, galloping across the paddocks like a terrified pack of brumbies. Eucalyptus trees exploding. Animals screaming. Fireballs searing the sky. She was in Dante’s Inferno.

How could fire change so quickly?

She knew she was supposed to go or stay, but she hadn’t thought the fire was going to threaten her. There’d been no warnings. But now it was heading straight for her. The power lines were on fire, the wires swinging. Flying cinders whirling through the sky. It was too late to make a choice—the fire had made it for her. The ferocious blaze was already leap-frogging the valley road and licking its way up the final hill. Escape was impossible.

I’m a survivor. A fire can’t beat me.

Fear got her adrenaline pumping. She ran to the hose. She had to wet everything before the fire reached the dam and wrecked the pump. It was nearly there.

She wet a towel and wrapped it around her face. The water pressure was low, but Jilly managed to coax enough out to do the job. The flames continued their destructive path uphill, well-fuelled by the dry summer grasses, dead trees and undergrowth. As she hosed, she looked around in panic. Everything looked surreal through a blue-grey mist.

Where could she go? Where could she hide? All she could hear was the cracking of exploding trees and the loud whoosh of the flames as they shattered everything in their path. She heard a terrifying sound like a runaway train before she saw it, a gigantic wall of flame, cinders scattering through the sky, falling on her like black rain.

Where…are…the…fire…trucks..?

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©Denise Covey, 2010