firewood

My dad and I drove up to Matcham last night.

When we were sleeping, the rain came down like it hasn't done for years. Wally told us we got 130mm during the night. I might have vaguely remembered the sound of gushing water at the back of my dreams. It brought a dead tree down. It was lying across the back driveway in the morning.

The garden was saturated as I walked towards the dead tree, and damp patches seeped into my clothes as I brushed through leaves. My dad taught me how to hack the tree up with the chainsaw. Sawdust nicked at my shins and noise drowned out the quietly dripping water as I cut through the dead wood.

I also helped my dad finish another section of the alpaca fence. He seemed real happy with it. It looks beautifully solid.

My skin smelt earthy when we got back to Sydney.