December = beach. July = bonfires. September = baby animals. March = golden light.
came. Back home, it would be Christmas snowmen and hot cocoa. Here, he wore board shorts, grilled prawns on the beach, and a man in a Santa hat rode a surfboard past him. “Happy Christmas, mate!” people yelled under a scorching sun. It was summer. The jacaranda trees were blooming purple, and the days stretched hot and lazy until February. season months australia
felt strange. The heat finally broke, leaves turned rusty red and orange—but not on oaks. On eucalypts . And instead of a slow, sad end, it was a harvest. Apples, pumpkins, and walnuts filled the markets. “This is our autumn,” Aunt Chloe said. “We’re saying goodbye to heat, not to light.” December = beach
“Snow? Darling,” she laughed, handing him a bottle of sunscreen. “Welcome to Australia. July is our winter. But our ‘cold’ means you might need a light jacket at night.” March = golden light