The meaning of a four letter word

The conversations out here start differently. Variations on "Ja-ged-any-rain"?"and "How-much-ranger-get?" take the place of the pedestrian, "how ya going?" or for a new acquaintance, "what do you do?"

When I answer the phone in my parents home, I am obliged first to answer these questions before any further business can be transacted. I don't always know the significance of the numbers, but I can look out the window and see the green carpet.

I noticed in town, the amount of rainfall is the single topic discussed. Jungian collective consciousness puts a spring in the step of those lucky to be the recipients of rain, while others' shoulders droop, betraying the fact that they are still waiting.

The air outside is steamy and the plains are hazy, heavy with moisture. The luxury can not be described. I walk out in the garden, working hard to make my way across the verdant lawn, watching for snakes - it's only a couple of days since one met Dad on the lawnmower. Roses show off in various garden beds and the crickets and frogs sing their noisy, cheerful chorus at any time of day. I look up at the trees where the koalas usually live, but none are about. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a brown creature with tall ears sitting very still. First I think it's a hare, but then it seems too big and I think it could be a small brown wallaby. I look again and realise it's a hare, gorging on the heavenly green. Its only moving parts are the jaws. It looks at me. I stay still and it continues the feast. Alfie, the Jack Russell, shows his age by showing no interest in a chase. Around another corner, brilliant red, green and blue parrots take flight as Alfie approaches.

A magpie gargles, singing the song that I love. It's the sound of morning in the Australian bush.

Mr Lincoln roses from the garden, fresh today.
© 2015 divacultura

Manchurian Pears
© 2015 divacultura

Beyond the fence post
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Study in contrasts. I never tire of this majestic tree.
© 2015 divacultura

My favourite dead tree finally keeled over. I will miss it's Tim Burtonesque addition
to the landscape. It still makes an interesting study.
© 2015 divacultura

Where's the transition industry policy for agriculture in Australia?

It's a sign of the times when newspaper headlines refer to something that went viral on social media. I think back to my journalism studies and it was never envisaged within the definition of news. We were still dealing with the dog bites man/man bites dog paradigm.

Because of personal circumstances, I've been taking a particular interest in the commercial realities and challenges of agriculture in Australia and I came across this article in the Toowoomba Chronicle: Darling Downs Vet's "corporate terrorism" blast goes viral.

It's well written, coherently argued and raises some striking points.

There's also last week's announcement from one of the big four banks of a 12 month moratorium on penalty interest and foreclosure action against drought affected farmers. None of the others have followed.

This prompted me to think about these problems from a public policy point of view.

Living in Melbourne (or any city) it's easy to forget about what it's like to be on a farm during drought. It's one of the most depressing and soul destroying things you can experience. The endless blue skies, unblemished by clouds, become oppressive, rather than welcome. A few years ago when Melbourne was in drought, people complained about water restrictions that meant they couldn't water their gardens every day. On a farm, vegetation disappears and the ground is just bare dirt. Animals are skin and bone. Everything is covered in dust. Hope is burned away under the relentless sun.

Not only is there no water or vegetation, there's no money. Income dries up too. We might feel the impact with an increase in food prices, but they'll creep up without being noticeable.

This image is from the Bureau of Meteorology and shows areas that have had below average rainfall in the last two years. Those red areas are Australia's prime farming areas. From their website: www.bom.gov.au

As I've watched my family's (mis)fortune on the land, I've come to the conclusion that farming, grazing, and any agricultural business is a mug's game. The investment required is enormous and the conditions required for a return - even to break even - are completely uncontrollable. The weather is central, yet is so uncertain. What other business has this challenge as central to its standard operating procedure? Add to this the impact of climate change and "free market" agreements which make market conditions even more difficult the need to borrow money is the only thing that's certain. Banks will lend it too, but have no tolerance for the natural vagaries of the industry. Call it corporate terrorism or at the very least, it's the modern equivalent of the unctuous snake oil salesman or travelling tent evangelist. The hands go out to take the money, but there's no one there when you need help.

One of the things we take for granted in the city is the ability to go to the supermarket and buy whatever food we want. Some of us are conscious about origin and try to buy local, but anyone who has ever tried to buy Australian garlic will know how hard this can be. We have a secure food supply. I don't think its continuity is assured. As more farmers are forced off the land and fewer people take it up, the real question is "who will grow our food"?

My Dad talked to me the other day about how his father was able to raise a family of four on a reasonably small farm. That's not possible anymore. What surprises me is that this is an industry going through the kind of transition that the automotive manufacturing went through in Australia, yet the support for the people who have no choice but to leave is just not there.

One bank promising not to foreclose on drought affected farmers for 12 months is not going to cut it. Where's the comprehensive public policy response? There isn't one. Farmers aren't sexy in the way cars are. They're also not concentrated in particular towns. Most regional towns and villages in Australia feel the flow on effects when the farms surrounding have no money to spend. While 12 months might bring welcome relief for farming families who are affected, it does nothing to solve the problem. What happens at the end of the 12 months? Farm debt will have grown even more and the capacity to pay still won't be there. Perhaps the banks hope that the issue will have faded from public view and they can quietly go about the business of evicting families.

The other aspect is the actions of the supermarket duopoly which distorts the market and puts further pressure on farmers.

Food is pretty important. A safe and reliable food supply is critical. It might be hard to imagine these are under threat, but without a comprehensive public policy response, we're in trouble. Some may argue that the market is operating as it should and weeding out inefficient businesses. That's probably true, but there are plenty of examples where a pure market response has been abandoned and the government has intervened.  Surely feeding the nation in a secure, sustainable way is a priority.

ETA: Today's Daily Telegraph newspaper has a comprehensive story and photographs about the situation in Walgett in NSW's west.

The Commonwealth Bank is running an appeal. Donations can be made here.

Today's serving has 6 priorities, 5 pillars, no boats and no substance.

Finally, I've received a copy of the Liberal party's "six key priorities", one of which is a "5-Pillar economy".  Still nothing from Labor or the Greens in my letterbox.

I'm trying to be objective as I read it.  It looks good.  It looks expensive.  There are no claims about it being printed on recycled paper or being environmentally friendly. I've never voted Liberal in my life, so objectivity is tricky.

The claim to build a "more diverse" 5-Pillar economy by building on the stuff we already do seems thin.

The pledge to save me money - "Carbon Tax gone" - seems crazy.  Has everyone forgotten the steadily increasing electricity bills that were coming in long before the carbon tax was introduce?.  What's even more interesting is the absence of any mention of their Direct Action plan to combat climate change.  Clearly this is of no consequence to the Liberals.  (How are all the farmers going to run viable farms if climate change isn't addressed, I wonder?)  It's also worth remembering that we have a price on carbon as part of a carbon trading scheme.  This is different from a carbon tax.

Point 3 is about ending the waste and debt.  This is hilarious in light of the enormously over the top Paid Parental Leave scheme.  And the loss of income from the abolition of the carbon tax.

Point 4 is about better roads and services and is accompanied by a logo of a train track!  Tony Abbott is on record saying that he won't fund urban rail, instead preferring to fund more roads.   There is not a single mention of public transport in the entire document - another clue about their attitude to climate change.


"Stop the boats" waits until point 5 with the new tag line "stronger borders".  In the following pages of the leaflet there are statements of costs under Labor but no mention of the boat buy back scheme announced last month.  What was that about ending waste?

My preferred policy position on refugees and asylum seekers is "drain the moats".

Finally the sixth priority is they'll create two million new jobs. There is absolutely no information about how this will done.

Apart from the absence of climate change and public transport, the other glaring omission is industrial relations.  I do not trust that elements of the dreadful, punitive, mean and unfair Work Choices legislation will not be introduced by an Abbott government.

It's fair enough to like or not to like the leaders of the parties, but I think it's really important to remember that they are just one person in the context of a whole party that forms government. As we've seen in recent times, there's no guarantee that the leader you vote for is the leader you get for the duration.  My hope is that people take an interest, read information and dig deeper to think about the claims being made by anyone seeking election.

A friend of mine suggested to me that we should remove personality from politics and vote purely on policy.  I don't think that's realistic.  Politics is about people as much as it's about policy and personality does matter; but it's not the only thing.

Since yesterday's post, I've been directed to a couple of handy sites to assist with the arduous task of voting in the Senate.  Below the Line provides a breakdown of how the preferences flow when you vote above the line.  (Thanks Mousicles.)

If you're not happy, Cluey Voter helps you create your very own how to vote card based on your views of the squillion parties and candidates standing.  Even if you don't decide to vote below the line, the process of thinking about each party is worthwhile.  (Thanks to Lynne for that tip.)

And if you're curious to see the propaganda being distributed in your electorate visit the Election Leaflets site.  You can upload the stuff you've collected.  They also have a "this is not an election leaflet" leaflet.

Are you still paying attention to the election?  Are you undecided?  If you're overseas, is the Australian election even on your radar?

On approach to Alice Springs

A quick turnaround in Alice Springs en route to Darwin has turned into a four hour extravaganza.  I'll miss the afternoon I had planned to reacquaint my skin with sun and my body with the hotel pool as I'll now arrive at dinner time instead of early afternoon.  Ah well, this is not within my control so there is no point being anxious or angry.

Since last week's bag-falling-on-head incident, I have switched my seating preference from aisle to window and enjoyed the view as we flew over the heart of Australia.

It is a red heart, nothing but sand stretching on and on and on.  Ten minutes later there may be a smattering of vegetation, small wiry clumps looking like the stubble on the chin of a dark haired man.  Rocky outcrops appear.  Some of them look like a partly submerged crocodile, the khaki-coloured lumpy spine curving to meet its head.  Beyond the head I see a formation that looks like foot prints from a gigantic prehistoric bird.

The land changes again and I understand the paintings made by the Aboriginal people.  Looking at the land below, I could be standing before one of their canvasses covered with dots and lines and concentric circles.  Small sandy circles appear.  Perhaps they are water holes.  Without access to an aircraft I wonder how the Old People knew what the land looked like? A ribbon flows through, the centre of the bed tattooed by trees.   I wonder if this river of sand once - still? - carries water.

I see no houses.  I see the veins of dirt roads but no vehicles.  There's the glint of the railway line, proudly declaring its straight, true lines in contrast to the deceptive softness of the harsh country.

The rocks change and I am reminded of drawing contour maps in grade 9 geography under Mrs Rosenthal's instruction.  They have meaning now.  Other memories of that class come to mind - learning about barchan sand dunes out in the long jump pit and writing out one hundred times that a wind is named according to the direction it comes FROM.  (Of course I knew that the grammar was wrong, but this was geography, not English, and the formal "from whence it came" would be unwelcome as a piece of smart aleckry.)  Patches of white stand out against the dark grey-green of the rocks - sand, salt or ash? I wonder.

We near Alice Springs. The vegetation thickens again.  The road is bitumen and the markings are visible.  I count four vehicles going about their business.  The geometry of buildings contrast with the natural shapes.  The township pulsates just ahead.

The plane's shadow is tiny on the ground and I have to look slightly backwards to see it.  I know we are descending as this shadow grows larger, finally meeting its creator as we gently touch the tarmac.

Disembarking down the rear stairs and onto the tarmac, the warmth is welcome.  It was 9 degrees Celsius when my cab picked me up from home this morning.  It feels like a very pleasant mid-twenties with a very light breeze.

I will find a way to make the most of this delay.

Flying over the heart of Australia - view from 20F
© divacultura 2013

Red sand, red sand, red sand
© divacultura 2013