The temperature climbs quickly upwards from 7am to its peak at 43 degrees, about mid- morning. It stays there til well after dark.

I have nowhere to be, so I keep the curtains drawn and hide inside all day, combing through the tangles of my hair. It’s the safest place, the safest occupation. I put a bowl of water out for birds, but the curtains stop me seeing if they use it.

Confession: I can never remember whether the sun rises in the east and sets in the west or the other way round. I know that’s stupid. I know I could just look it up. And yet.

I do know that when the sunset comes, it is beautiful. A rich, deep tangerine. Reflecting in windows, setting buildings ablaze.

It’s the smoke from the bushfires that make it look that good. The particles in the upper atmosphere, scattering the light just so. Disrupting wavelengths so they meet our eyes enriched.

I read that if the smoke gets lower, comes closer, it will have the opposite effect. The colours will dull and darken.

In Sydney, the smoke is close. The air is poison now. We just have vibrant sunsets. We’re not so unlucky, yet.

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