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“This is when the sky turns fat and heavy,” Miri said. In December, the mangoes swelled. By January, the air was so thick you could drink it. February brought cyclones with names like Ada and Marcus, and the rivers ate the roads. Children swam in flooded paddocks. Tourists complained about humidity; Miri’s people sang for the rain.
She pointed to the eucalyptus tree, its leaves silver and still.