Out of the Ashes

I get up and check on Sabina. She's still happily asleep, the wind-up wonder torch still shining in her room.

Outside everything is covered with ash. It sticks to your shoes as you walk, to your hands as you open gates, your clothes as you brush past fallen branches.

On the ground I spot a piece of burnt bark as big as my fore arm.

Several branches are lying on the ground. Some of them have flown at least 20 metres before hitting the ground. They are just light enough for me to drag. Fodder for our SES friend and her chainsaw.

I check on the horses. They gaze at me with big eyes, and wander if there is any food coming. I look back at the buckets in the garage, all full of water. That's their feed buckets. No breakfast guys, sorry.

The water in Sabina's shell, which was left outside, is black with ash. Pete's silver car is peppered.

I wander back inside. There is a weird sense of suspension. On the one hand, the fire is still raging nearby and the radio actually lists us on alert. On the other hand, the wind is barely lifting the wind sock, and the likelyhood of the fire arriving at our doorstep is fairly small. There is no reason to not live normally, and start cleaning up.

Sabina wakes up and notices the power is back on. "Yay! Mama, we saved the house from the fire, and elctricity is back, and we're ok! Yay!", she cheers.

After breakfast, John Fayne comes on the radio. We cheer. I take the radio with me outside and commence cleaning. First the shutters get a complete sweep down. Once they are semi clean, we lift them. The house brightens up. I clean the windows. The radio keeps blaring alerts for Neerim East, and messages from friends come pouring in. My mum rings "Are you ok?". "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Settle down. Nothing's happening."

In the evening, Pete decides to stay and keep cleaning up. I drive back. As we pack the car, emotional sparks fly. The smoke may have come and gone, but the emotional air is yet to clear.
At Kevin's milking sheds I realise that our whole road had been totally blocked off by broken pine branches. The neighbours had already been out clearing.

At the end of our road I meet some of our neighbours. The Westerley brought them live embers and they didn't sleep all night. They've been driving around the area, checking out the smoke, and listening in to CFA communications on their CB. They reported a fire starting in the state forest to our East.

In the middle of Neerim East, a huge tree had come down across the road and the power lines. A new sort of shock and numbness set in. The full realisation that during a fire the world around you often isn't what you're used to, and escape may not be possible, crashes upon me like an uprooted tree.

At Rokeby, I screech to a halt in front of a "Road Closed" sign. I back up and take the road to Warragul. The Police hold a tight roadblock at Brandy Creek. They wave me through, but entry to the area is restricted.

Eventually I'm on the freeway. The Warragul detour has added at leat 10 minutes to my trip. My eyes gaze keenly in the dark, as I try to find the spot where the fire crossed the freeway. Eventually, I think I see some ashed grass. Not 100% sure though. Then the burnt smell knocks me out.

When I get back into town, I am greeted by my family like a "survivor".