After the rains.

After more than 200mm of rain and crazy winds, we left the safety of our home on the hill this morning to survey the scene.

The girls were just happy to be outside after days and days inside the house.

We found a smashed up poly tunnel,

an underwater car park,

lakes and more lakes where once were paddocks ready for the full moon planting out.

Artichokes ready to be picked but impossible to get to.

Rows of ripe berries and currants again impossible to get to to pick.

Wet.

Another reason why we wont be opening our farm gate stall this year.

Farmer Bren in his fancy pants.

That corner is the furthermost corner of the market garden. Gone. Washed down the creek. All that precious top soil, gone.

Seems ridiculous to find a sprinkler in the midst of it all.

And bush land that had a bush fire rip through it two years ago, now is full of heavy, wet, soggy and fallen trees. This is the part that really terrifies me living in the middle of the bush.

Despite the loss of income, the loss of years worth of carefully maintained top soil, the loss of the chance to express our true passion and plant an heirloom vegie crop and so much devastation, the truth is we know we are the lucky ones. In a few days the waters will subside and we will clean up and move on. We have a dry house to return to and chooks that were moved to higher country and still seem happy enough to lay eggs despite the wet.

Our thoughts go out to all those less fortunate.

Stay safe.