It's just after 6am and the air in Sydney is thick with red dust. Gale-force winds have blown it across the drought-afflicted interior.
I woke to the acrid smell of dirt in my nostrils.
Someone on talk-back radio called it 'orange fog'. But fog is still.
The wind isn't blowing this red fog away, it's bringing it in.
Apparently, it's raining mud in the Southern Highlands.
It is eerie. Apocalyptic.
I have to go to work. There'll be havoc on the roads.
The two photos were taken from my upstairs verandah.
Days like these... I'd rather forget!
