I have a bit of a running argument with a few of my friends about which is better — summer or winter. I have always been a winter guy. I’m pretty tall and have carried some extra kilograms throughout my life and always struggled to cool down. Personally, I think trying to warm up is far more enjoyable than trying to cool down. It seems obvious to me that lighting a fire, putting on warm socks and a jumper is way better than sitting in front of a fan, panting and sweating, shirtless with some cold water, drying desperately to cool off. But, whenever it is raining, or cold, or windy or there is storm, I will get a text from my friends who prefer summer simply saying, “winter sucks.” And they’re right, sometimes it does. It is no secret to people around here winter wreaked havoc last week. Winds reached 125km/h, Waroona recorded 103mm of rain in the seven days leading up to 9am Monday, while Harvey and Brunswick Junction recorded 63mm and 96mm respectively. But as the sun came out this week, I was reminded of why I love winter in this part of the world. It’s the dewy grass crunching under your feet as you walk through the paddocks and parks. The contrast between the rolling green hills of the scarp and the bright-brown gravel driveways and firebreaks which snake their way up and down them. The creeks which have cut themselves in to the land over years of rain. And it’s the subtle smell of burning wood as the sun goes down and fires are lit to warm houses across the towns of the region. As I drove up and down South Western Highway over the past week and looked around, I thought about all the winters this place has seen. The winters that have moulded and changed it to become what it is. I am grateful to those winters and cannot wait to spend many more here.