Photo: Peter Currie
One week ago today we were wondering how to entertain a house-bound 2 year old in the 46.5C heat. We took her to a local swimming pool, and as we struggled against the hot wind that blew our hats off over and over again, I remember thinking that the sky looked ominous...a strange orange/brown. Could it be dust from the winds?
On our way home I commented to Big Fella that the wind seemed all over the place. We looked at the trees lining the streets and couldn't make out which direction the wind was blowing - the branches and leaves were swirling around like mini tornadoes.
When we got home and turned on the news we started seeing images of the horror that was taking place. 100km/hr winds that were changing direction almost by the minute. Too dry land. Hot temperatures. It was a perfect storm of horrific proportions.
By Tuesday I was gathering up tinned food, toiletries, sheets, doona's, nappies and children's paints, pencils, books - anything that I could get my hands on to give to those that had lost everything.
As I sit here writing this post, my house is covered in a blanket of smoke. It's dark outside and every room in our house smells of smoke. It's not the most comfortable feeling, and yet I have the Internet and radio telling us that we in the suburbs are out of harms way. As the fires continue to burn - the closest one 20 minutes away - I can't help but give thanks for how blessed we are.
Tonight I'm holding my family a little closer. Loving them a bit more mindfully. Thankful that we are safe and healthy and happy. Thankful that there are volunteers out there fighting these fires and trying their best to put them out. Thankful that the worst fires in our country's history - Black Saturday - just left me feeling helpless, not hopeless.
More images here.
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