Fire season

Recently as I logged on to Twitter and read through the tweets that had twittered while I slept, I came across one that caught my eye – The Age had reported on a fire,  it read like this: Fires strike Victoria’s east: Bushfires break out in eastern Victoria as heatwave forecasts raise fears… Full report here
I felt sick. Up until now I have managed to calm the fear inside. I don’t like to let things get the better of me. I like to be on top of things. I like to be in control.
But I live in outer east Melbourne, in the Dandenong Ranges to be exact.  We were lucky last season, nothing major happened here.  I have lived in fire prone areas a lot of my life.  I’m willing to accept the risks. But after February this year mindsets changed.  Lives changed.  Lives were lost. The whole of Victoria seemed quiet, and sad, and lost after that day.  Everyone was a little jumpy.

Where I live we had up until then not evacuated. But after that day we did. One notable time being when I received a phone call from a friend on our phone tree letting me know there was a fire down the road from us. I was at the pool with my kids. In my 7 year old bathers, frizzy hair  & crocs, noice.  I had an image of myself on the news in said ensemble saying ‘this is all I have left!’ and I joke about it because I’m lucky enough to be able to, and because if I don’t I might think about this fire season.

The CFA website was constantly on at home and at work, as we kept an eye on the latest incidents.  One day as I drove home from work I could see plumes of smoke.  I tuned in to the local ABC emergency station… they did not have any information as yet… but I could see the smoke.  New fire smoke.  As I drove to the kids school, news filtered through of the fire… the town where my kids go to school was being told to enact their fire plans. As I got closer, I could hear the town fire sirens going.  I arrived at the school at 5 minutes to 3.  School finishes at 3.30.  Emergency policy states that NO children will be released from the school between 3pm and 3.30pm in the event of an emergency, as all children and staff will be relocated to the fire refuge.  I was just in time to gather my children, sign them out, and go home… smoke was billowing, and the fire sirens were constantly sounding.  I tried to stay calm for my kids.  We drove home, (up hill and in the opposite direction of the  approaching fire.) In the car and at home I kept the local ABC radio on – I rang Hubby and said ‘come home,’ he was working in the city that day.

I heard on the radio of parents not being able to get through road blocks to their kids at neighbouring schools.  I heard teachers on the radio saying all children had now been evacuated, and parents could collect them for this location.  The CFA website and radio named roads on fire where people I know live.  A fire truck exploded.  No one was seriously injured.

The next time we had to evacuate we spent 2 nights in hotels.  It was Miss8’s birthday, and we had left her bigger gifts at home.  The second night I went with a friend (also evacuated) to Coldplay… well, what else could we do? And we had bought the tickets months earlier.   As I entered the hotel to book in with two frazzled kids, the receptionist asked what brought us to stay here, I had just received a call from Hubby with the latest information – so I replied to reception ‘it would appear our road is on fire.’  I was shaky, tired, emotional, and didn’t want to appear like an over reacting drama queen, I also didn’t want to appear callous or cold hearted.  I’m not sure I was successful in this.

As it turned out, our road was not on fire, rather a huge tree (of which there are many) had fallen in the gale force winds and crashed through the middle of a house.  The next day I went to work, tired, buzzing from Coldplay, and frazzled… it was March, how much longer would this go on?

The season finally changed, and as Winter approached, fires went to the back of my mind – they were there, but not buzzing away like an incessant mosquito.  But now, fire season has officially started again.  We have had hot, dry weather here, and this week also our first total fire ban day – not the top of the new scale – Code Red (catastrophic) day, just a run of the mill total fire ban.  So this meant the kids school was not closed, but they had to leave shoes on at all times and wear badges with all their emergency information on them, something they take in their stride.

We have begun to pack our most precious belongings… the things that can not be replaced… the bag of drawings from each year of our kids lives, the walking stick that my beloved Great Aunt used, the movie ticket from France from World War One, from Hubby’s Great Grandfather… Each family member has one box to place their own most precious items in.  We have a box for out of print books, and a laundry basket at the front door ready for lap tops, the external hard drive and the kids most loved toys that share their bed each night.  A bag of spare clothes and toiletries in the car as well as woollen blankets. Boxes are stored at my work over the fire season.

But here’s the thing.  We love where we live.  We need the trees to make us feel at home.  We love the community, and I have a sense of pride when I drive towards home on any weekend day, and see the crowds of people who have come from all over the world to see my little village.  So we will not be moving.  We will stay.  We know the risks, and are as prepared as we can be.  And on those days when the risk is too high, we will leave our hillside home… and hope for a quick return.