Obviously, there are many stark differences between two countries in opposite hemispheres and half a world apart, but it was not until the fifth day of the fifth Ashes test that it fully struck me just how different everything now was. 

I’ve lost count how many times I listened to cricket on the radio, back in England. The final day of international cricket generally takes place sometime near the end of September and I would normally feel all reflective and nostalgic because stumps signified the passing of summer. I liked to lay it on thick and would put myself through the whole gamut of after play presentations, post-match interviews, game and then series wrap up before the coverage signed off with Soul Limbo by Booker T & the M.G.s.   

 With that music, summer had ended, winter would soon close in and I knew I wouldn’t hear the shipping forecast until May next year.

I should hate it really because the emergency broadcast was a pain in backside that tended to interrupt tense moments of test cricket at the worst possible time.  But I didn’t, it was always soothing to listen as the presenters calming voice read out details for the 31 shipping areas around the UK.  I often though how delightful it would be to spend time at sea in areas like Dogger, Trafalgar, Hebrides and German Bight.  As long as visibility was good and Severe Gales were not an issue.

But in Australia the emergency updates are bushfire warnings.

Dad and I were out driving in the country and because he doesn’t really like cricket that much, he was talking all over the commentary.  The day before had been over 40 degrees, there had been a drop in temperature but tomorrow was going to be another scorcher.  It was a North wind and, in Victoria, North winds are hot.

With only moments to go before play finished for the summer, the bushfire broadcast interrupted the game. It was pretty brutal as entire communities, in certain areas, were told it would save their lives if they made plans, left home and sought refuge elsewhere.  

The last day of cricket was not going to be some wistful nod to a few former sunny days because there’s still plenty of dry, hot days and sunshine to come. 

(No reminder was needed but a few days later, back home, smoke from a distant bushfire came in on the strong winds and transformed the late afternoon skies into an eerie dull orange).

The gap between Christmas and New Years didn’t stretch on forever like it can in the UK either, because we were just too busy. Obviously, Christmas leftovers still need to be dealt with but it’s the summer holidays and everyone is outside having fun with their shiny new toys.

Thanks to ten millimetres of grass and some poor batting from the English and Australian cricket teams, our day four tickets were worthless when the match was all over by day two and we packed the dog in the car and took a holiday at a little mountain hideaway in Warburton where we caught up with family, swam in the Yarra River and visited a few old haunts..

Maybe it’s because we are just used to the fells of Cumbria but there’s something special where sunsets ignite the surrounding hills an assortment glorious orange, pinks and reds. While the light that crept below the tree canopy fell in such a way that I wished I had my big camera with me.  I’d barely picked it up since I’ve been in Australia but all that shadow and light and shapes was very exciting and hopefully there will be more of it in the new year.