The seven horsemen

In January 2020, we had visits from the seven horsemen of the apocalypse.

First, in early January, fire. The bushfires in Australia raged so far out of control that they made international headlines, accompanied by pictures of burned koalas, and kangaroos jumping away from raging infernos. All our friends abroad, from North America, Asia, and Europe, wrote and hoped that we were safe. We were. Although only a few weeks before, I had spent hours pouring over airbnb listings of holiday homes, trying to decide whether to take our vacation in January in the areas that were now covered in flames. With those places now evacuated, we were happy we had not made a booking.

Next, poison. Although in Melbourne there were no fires, for a couple of weeks the winds blew toxic smoke to settle over the city. The air quality became worse than in Bejing. Tim bought masks to protect our lungs. We stayed inside as much as we could.

Third, the sword. The war-mongering leader of a country in the northern hemisphere massacred an Iranian official, leading the world to the brink of war. With commercial airplanes being shot down over Iran, I pulled out a globe and very carefully chose airline tickets for my conference in Germany in February that avoided Iranian airspace altogether.

The next week, ice. Our suburb was hit by torrential rain. A few miles away in the suburb of Caulfield, golf-ball sized hail fell from the sky. Sidewalks and roads flooded. Trams were cancelled. Homes and vehicles were damaged. And the storm didn't even put out the bushfires, since it swept south from Melbourne rather than continuing east where the fires were still raging.

The following week, mud. Far away in the centre of the country, windstorms swept the red desert sand into massive clouds. The clouds blew with the ferocious wind for miles and miles, until high in the air, they hit a wet cold front coming off of the southern ocean, and rained down on Melbourne. We heard the pleasant sound of rain falling all night. But in the morning, sidewalks, cars, and plants all had a fine coating of mud on them.

Sixth, disease. A new virus had been spreading only a short 12 hour flight north of Melbourne, in China. It finally reached Australia and a few other countries. Global panic ensued. In China, the city of Wuhan was locked off. One of Tim's colleagues in China was among the last to get out before all the trains were stopped. Soon after, Shanghai was also shut down. Tim's office in Shanghai received strict notices not to come in, at all. Work from home. Don't go in the streets. Shut the elevators in high rises so people weren't tempted to go out. Remember those airline tickets I carefully purchased to avoid Iran? I had chosen flights with a stopover in mainland China. The flights were cancelled by the airline. And then even Monash University shut their doors and moved the start date of the semester back a week, with requirements that the first week of classes involve no face-to-face meetings. Online lectures only.

And finally, the week after that came the seventh horseman of the apocalypse ... school. Jonathan started a new year of school.

I hope February is less eventful.