Sooo Pretty.

Still working on the walls

We were at the top of Brown Mountain during the storm. Gale force winds and trees falling left right and center.
The rain was falling heavily all Saturday night, then in the early hours the wind started, it sounded like a jumbo jet taking off.
My fear was a large tree I had failed to fell before building our shed, it stood majestically up the hill from the ‘weekender’, tall enough to crush us. I hoped it was young enough to stay for a few more years, I didn’t count on the amount of rain soaking the soil that night.
Even with the gale force winds the shack stayed sound only the lamps hanging from the ceiling were gently swaying and the tarpaulins, the outside wall, flapped manically.
Daylight, or should I call it gloom light, dawned the wind probably getting stronger, through the windows we could see leaves and rain shooting horizontally up the hill.
The radio told us that more of these low pressure cells were coming in our direction.
The Brown Mountain roads were closed due to falling trees and flash floods, we were hunkered down with the ceiling dripping from the rain being blown into the attic by the driving Easterly rain.
Sunday afternoon I did my regular check of the danger tree through the back window, knowing that if it fell we would feel it as it crushed us before I saw any movement.
I could’t see it, I asked Helen to see if she could, the huge tree was missing, I couldn’t believe my eyes as I kept wiping condensation from the window glass.
Eventually the realization dawned on me, the Easterly gale had blow the tree on the Westerly side of us, down. It had fallen up hill. We were alive and our weekender was going to live a lot longer.
Come Monday after another night of torrential rain and abating wind, Helen had to take the day off we check the damage.

This was a dry depression...

The depression at the bottom of the hill had magically transformed into a pond.

Trees across our driveway

Our return to Canberra was blocked by some 6 fallen trees. Luckily Grant our neighbour who uses the same road did most of the chainsawing to cut a drivable path.

A place to relax while reading “Breaking The Spell” by Daniel C Dennett.