The End of Summer

It's happening again. I can feel my Melbourne summer ending, as storms blow over the city this close afternoon. The heat has been intense since Christmas, cooling off for a week or so only to return and scorch the earth into submission. Plants eventually give up their green and become the same colour as the dry ground, in a kind of back-to-front hibernation which ends when autumn rains come. Or a midsummer storm passes through, like it's threatening to do now

Emails from Europeans talking about the snowstorms, Britain and Ireland closed for business as people get out tin trays and slide down previously unremarked-upon slopes. Now some from America talking of blocked driveways and hailstones, while TV politicians arguing with each other over the cheapest way to brush climate change under the carpet, while Copenhagen has become a dirty word instead of a beautiful city or a template for future good intentions.

Going to the sea over new year to escape the suffocating heat, the pounding of rays onto unforgiving earth. On beautiful beaches with sand sandwiches and tap water decanted into plastic bottles. Beach cricket and an arcane form of racquet ball. Showering when home, glowing from the rays and the salt water, thinking to myself that this really is Australia. The animals and the sun are where its secrets lie.

In the studio writing more songs, putting them to one side as I get ready to leave again. I've been writing songs for people this time - didn't start off with that as a plan, it's just turned out that way. I always go into the studio looking forward to listening to the last series of songs, and end up writing new ones. Lucky. One day soon I'm going to go through them. For now, the 'Songwriter' album is still new for me. Been playing a few of the songs I haven't played live yet. Sweat running down my left arm, guitar slipping and a sliding. I'm hoping it's like drumming with heavy drumsticks, or the training bit in 'Rocky'. OK, perhaps the 'shopping for hats' sequence in a Brit comedy is more like it.

I've started putting my things together to go on the road again. The Bag is waiting expectantly by the door, like a gigantic dog on a constant state of alert. My little 12 string 'La Perina' is at a beauty spa and I have promised to pick her up on Friday afternoon - rested, pampered and renewed. The guitar pedals have spent the past week at boot camp and should be tamed and ready for a different kind of voltage when I collect them tomorrow.

Ireland, Canada, America. Familiar places and some cities I have never visited before. I'll see you out there, I hope. The eastern part of Canada, Edinburgh and Italy will follow in July and August, then Europe in the autumn, where I'll be bringing the book, and back to Australia after that.

The book! More of that another time, until now I'll wish you well and tell you that I can see the rain-bringing clouds coming up the gully.

It's quiet, just a chainsaw far-off and the chattering magpies. As I say, I've been keeping quiet. Far from the steel doors of International Departures which are before me now. See you soon and I hope the year of the tiger roars for you.

Andy x