LIKE so many things in life, we only begin to care about water when its absence is being felt.
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Chaffey Dam surpassing 100 per cent capacity for the first time in its new augmented life in 2016 had a gushing feel to it.
It was like people didn’t think it would happen, let alone as quickly as it did.
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Now we’re staring down the barrel of level two restrictions in town and council is apparently glaring at “large swathes of green grass” while wearing something akin to a grimace.
Meanwhile, some shoot the scowls in the direction of itinerant festival campers.
‘It must be them, those outsiders, guzzling all of our water, they don’t understand we’re in a drought’.
All of the finger-pointing, undoubtedly unedifying, is misdirected.
And more than a little late.
In a country like Australia and a region like this water should be a concern all of the time.
It’s a concern when the grass feels lush underfoot.
It’s a concern when 100 per cent allocations are able to be authorised for irrigation.
But now it’s like the unison chorus of local farmers who said this winter’s conditions, and culmination of the recent drought, were the worst they’ve ever experienced could barely register a single echo in the cavernous playhouses of our own self-interest.
According to meteorologists, 2018 was Tamworth’s hottest year on record and the fourth-driest ever.
Water scarcity is a real and present threat, it has reached harrowing extremes elsewhere in the world.
Cape Town in South Africa had a dalliance with “Day Zero” recently as its taps nearly ran dry.
Its drought eased and spared the people the horror of having to queue for water, but its residents are still required to use less than 105 litres of water per person per day.
With mass fish kills in Australian and austere restrictions bearing down, water is front of mind.
It is clear the complex, murky system is not working best for anyone or anyone’s longevity and it must change.