The enervating heat came with the first glimmer of daylight. Stepping outside I feel the warmth of the air wash over my skin. The distant scorched hills and coastal plain shimmer hazily in the distance. A few blackbirds and thrushes scrabble in the damp bark scattering it in every direction. Magpies lazily stalk the lower garden as I top up the bird-baths and fill up the dog drinking bowls. The bird-feeding trays rock slightly in the increasing breeze and are without the usual hustle and bustle of visiting parrots - a sure sign of the day’s heat to come - the parrots remaining in the cool of the surrounding bushland. Driving into work the fields are noticeably yellow and parched and the water holes have become hard little ridges of grey clay.

At lunchtime, with bottled water in hand, I set off in the 42C heat for a short walk along the walking trail, which edges Cardinia creek. As soon as I step out of the office I squint in the brilliant light and feel the hot dusty wind brush across my body. Waves of heat radiate from the grey concrete steps and metal handrail, which is too hot to grasp, as I trot down the steps into the car park. As I walked across the tarmac I feel the heat exuding from the cars. The air is laden with the smell of dust, tar and dried gum leaves and the tarmac, sticky underfoot, oozes in places.

Walking along the track, the sun filters through the parched gum trees and their ever-falling dry leaves crackle under foot. Bark peels from their silvered trunks to hang in strips. Few people tread the path and the quietness is noticeable. There is nothing but myself and the relentless heat and dust and flies as I walk. I take numerous sips of water from my water bottle to wet my dry mouth. Sweat covers my brow and trickles down the sides of my face and under my arms. I feel the heat of the ground burning through the soles of my runners. I feel the harsh sun burning my skin when I loose the cover of shade. After fifteen minutes I head back to the office, cutting across an open space in full sun before walking around the edge of the park under the shade of gum trees. I stop occasionally, mentally mapping my route to avoid the sun through the gloom of trees.

At the end of my walk, I sit in the shade under a huge old oak tree, gaining respite from the relentless burning rays before once again crossing the shadeless car park and climbing the 80 odd steps to the office. Leaves stir restlessly above me as small birds flitter and twitter between gnarled branches. Other than the wind and the drone of traffic from the freeway, quietness abounds. I can feel the warmth of the ground seeping into my body and it would be easy to drift into somnolence. Taking a few warm swigs from my depleted drink bottle I stand, brushing the dust from my clothing and set off again in the relentless heat. As I walk across the shimmering car park towards the mountain of steps, a tune plays in my mind “only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun” and I smile inwardly at the truth of the words.

Hot, sweaty and red of face, after climbing the steps, the welcome shade of the building provides relief. The air feels cool as I step into the office gym and the change room quiet as few staff exercise today. After a drink of ice cold water I step under a cool shower to wash the dust and grime from my face and body. I feel refreshed though my face still glows from the sun. After a climb of another 40 odd steps from the basement gym to the level 1 lift well the refreshing coolness dissipates as the outside heat pervades the walls of the office.

By the end of the day the promised storms have not come and there is no coolness anywhere though I can see a long, dark line of clouds building up over the bay. At home, relief can only be found under a lukewarm shower. My make-up and creams had become soft, warm and runny. Even as I dress, my body once again feels clammy. The heat of the day has penetrated into the far corners of the house and it is airless and even though I open windows and doors, the air remains still. As the sun goes down, seemingly dripping blood in a red ball of fire, the night drops thick and airless over the land. The promised changed still has not eventuated as I slump into bed, to lie under the top sheet, with the whirl of the fan above cooling my body. During the night, waking me, the rain falls in sheets and I listen to it pounding on the roof and streaming in torrents from the gutters before crawling under the quilt for warmth and falling once again into sleep.

In the morning the land had been washed clean and the air is light and fresh. A fresh breeze blows from the south reviving my spirits and energy.