It feels like spring has been stolen. A few tender buds, some shimmering warm days, the first green fronds – then suddenly a withering blast of heat that sweeps in the deadly harbinger of a long, dangerous summer: fire.
Summer is not supposed to start like this, certainly not this early; and while fire has always been a part of this country and always will be, this early appearance of its destructive power is so frightening to those of us who have lived through Ash Wednesday, Black Saturday or earlier calamities.
We recall the terror, the sting of smoke and ash fills our eyes. It’s clearly going to be a nasty summer.
These recent Blue Mountains fires have even distantly touched my life. The wonderfully kind and accomplished woman who cares for my child so I can creep off to work at an ungodly hour each morning lost her home in the Winmalee fire last week, her family home of 50 years, with everything she owned lost with it. Not a picture. None of her wedding jewellery. Nothing.
Her daughter and daughter’s husband lived there and they both made it out safe. They received the now carefully co-ordinated warning text, advising them to “watch and act”. But after looking out the window and seeing the fire come across the rise, they made the hasty decision to leave. As they drove out of their semi-rural property, they saw houses ablaze on the road.
The couple are now bunking in with friends. The family is meeting to decide what to do.
What do you do? We are told over and again that things can be replaced, people can’t, and we know that it’s true. But imagine losing your entire home, the centre of your family, and then trying to figure out just what to do next. I wish I could be there to help and comfort my friend and her family, but what comfort could I give?
We know that the natural disasters that have always beset this country – cyclones, floods, fires – will become more extreme in the future because of climate change; and we know that the indomitable and stoic spirit that has always risen to meet these challenges will grow equally more intense.
But these times are truly going to test us. And I can just imagine the fearful memories that these fires have stirred for those who went through so much terror in Victoria in 2009.
The north wind just has to blow hard and hot and I am immediately taken back to that time, and I am frightened.
We are different because of that time. The discussions about stay or go are much more pragmatic now: emergency authorities do not falter or hesitate to give serious, sometimes dire, warnings about the fire threat, and locals are calm and adamant that they understand and accept the realities of living in Australian bushland. There is an unmoving but respectful stand-off between these positions.
We expect well-organised, well-funded and professional emergency assistance, but we do not expect miracles. We know human nature is stubborn, and that so many of us are drawn to the bush. And we also know that in Australia, during a long, languid, often dangerous summer, fire will always be our companion.
Virginia Trioli is co-host of ABC News Breakfast on ABC1 and ABC News 24, 6-9am weekdays.
Follow Virginia on Twitter @latrioli
