Muristek
Farm life in the NSW northern rivers: ‘The anxiety is very real every time it starts to rain’ | Palisa Anderson
Some days, the soil has the consistency of mashed potatoes with too much butter. It can feel almost comic – until it does not
In the weeks before the Richmond, Clarence and Tweed rivers swelled and spilled over in early March, my family was isolating at home with Covid. The five of us were cooped up in close proximity in our flimsy subtropical farm house, rotating around a few rooms, watching the incessant rain. It was gentle at times, then it would flare into a hammering rage against the roof, windows and walls. At every break, we rushed out of the house, grateful to get outside and away from each other, even briefly.
At that point, as continual summer rain turned into continual autumn rain, the ground was beyond sodden. Our fluffy white husky-cross-samoyed had turned a black-flecked terracotta all over, and had the constant whiff of low tide about her. She didn’t mind, though. She was busy catching rats that had moved up to higher ground and into our crops.
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