The bush, flattened for so long by the drought, rises in the heat and damp and runs rampant. Cissus vine curls upwards looking for light, bringing down weak young trees that collapse untidily across paths. Lantana reaches new infestation levels despite last year’s backbreaking weeding weekends (even the most dedicated bush regenners are feeling defeated). The land is awash with ticks, sand fleas and every other kind of garden pest that stings, bites or just plain aggravates. In backyards all over Cutter Island and the Cook’s Basin area, washing hangs limply on Hills Hoists, wetter than when it was first put out to dry. Soon, it will stink of damp and need washing again. One or two mothers with large, dirty broods of tear-away kids begin to hanker for a few weeks of drought – though they keep their thoughts to themselves, knowing to voice them would be sacrilege. Miraculously, the rain eases at lunchtime and in the clammy afternoon, the residents of Cutter Island shuffle along steaming pathways and tracks mined with puddles towards the community hall, to plan a strategy to fight the development of Garrawi Park.
