There's something special about a decent rainfall in this part of the world, particularly after the last two years. It’s what it does to all our senses. At first there’s that unique smell of petrichor, that settling of dust and freshness to the air.
The change of colour is a real sight and makes you realise what an amazingly resilient landscape this is... just how does this seedbank stay dormant and survive for so long? Then the splash of colours as daisies, Swainson Peas, numerous flowering eremophilas and wattles are thrown into life, sending out a myriad of colours on to what was up until now a rather drab canvas.
The sounds that have been absent for so long. First the frogs, in that small window of opportunity to find a mate and make sure they continue as a species through that next unknown dry period.
Insects, the hum, the buzz, the annoying mosquito screech. Followed closely by the feeding frenzy by microbats and geckoes that dart across the windows in search of what has been a rare tasty morsal.