It’s hot. And sticky. I emerge from my bedroom in the morning, cooled to a sublime 26 degrees, and a wall of dense moist air hits me. A thin bead of sweat lines my upper lip as I hang out the washing on a Sunday morning, and I’m a woman who typically just ‘glows’. I mention this to a friend who has survived at least 8 build-ups and she scoffs – it hasn’t yet hit bikini-all-day weather for her. She promises to tell me when it does! My soda-stream use sky-rockets and my resolve not to drink wine during the week is sorely tested. Cold, crisp, sliding down effortlessly ….

The clouds gather and thunder rumbles for the first time in the distance.  I check BOM – maybe I’m being a soft southerner.  It’s 7pm, 29.6 degrees (feels like 32.6) and 74% humidity. Nope, that’s pretty warm.

A friend posts some ‘this is how I know it’s the build-up’ tips which make me smile wryly:

• The best carpark is determined by shade, not distance
• Sticking your head in freezers is considered normal
• It only takes 2 fingers to steer the car
• You aimlessly wander around Casuarina shopping mall – but you HATE shopping
• You shower, dry off then need another shower
• You worry the ceiling fan is spinning so fast it will fly off and kill you

The country looks browner, dry and dusty. Plants starting to wilt and gasp, and the great waterways across Arnhem Land contract.

But the universe often balances the good with the bad, and there are signs all around of species flourishing and awaiting the rains.

The build-up brings mango season – and I’m in gastronomic heaven. $2.50 a kilo at the markets, juicy delicious mangoes of many varieties. I eat them daily, and as I type the dehydrator is whirring away in the background. Mum said we had a lovely Julie mango tree in the back garden in Trinidad where I was born (very large, super-type mangoes) and I used to have them with custard from a VERY early age!

And so it starts ….. my local markets at Rapid Creek

I notice our feathered friends are also enjoying the changing seasons. A few weeks ago the black kites, a dry season migrant, seemed to gather in greater numbers through the city, riding the warm wind thermals. I spotted a flock along the Nightcliff foreshore, rising and falling with the wind next to a small bay.

Along the Darwin esplanade today, the magpie geese couldn’t believe their luck. Luscious green grass, afternoon sprinklers on for a little extra joy and not a human soul in sight! The word spread and by afternoon there were close to 100 .. a welcome haven.

Closer to home, I hear the deep-throated croak of the green tree frog, testing its’ voice, perhaps sensing the rain on its way. And out my kitchen window I smile to see the small finches that carefully balance on a branch, and hop down to perch on the rim of my ceramic water bowl, for a drink and a splash. I’m convinced this bowl is marked on their internal neighbourhood map.

Not long now til the rains come – surely!