Despite the fact that 2022 is already looking a bit rickety on the rails — well, here in Australia, at least — there’s a real luscious, overgrown, humid abundance resonance around our place right now.

We’re having another true subtropical summer; storms and rains are rolling through every other day, the rivers have been flushed and swollen for weeks, brilliant flowers of roadside weeds tumble over the fences and take over trees, and the grass fairly springs up behind you as you mow. Giant bugs are appearing on the deck in the evening like we’re in some kind of Amazonian camping adventure. Delicate parasol mushrooms bloom and die every morning, born in the damp and then burned by the heat — but they’re back again the next day despite it. Even the old red gladioli bulbs that live on the fence lines along the drive home are back to blooming — and I thought they’d quit for good after all those years of desperate drought and fire.

So, I guess that’s what this is all about. I’ve drawn a lot of grateful and adoring odes to our subtropical summers over the past two years, maybe because they do feel so profound and full of magic, after seeing those dusty, heartbreaking hard years.

The ‘Abundance’ artwork is available as a printable download, here.