We had been out all day; we were unpacking the shopping; it was a fine day with a gentle breeze; we were standing in the lounge that looks out into the treetops; then we looked at each other wondering why the air in the room looked 'yellow'. We both looked out across the balcony - FIRE !
A wall of fire was racing up the hill toward our house; fierce, crackling, roaring! I picked up the phone and Glenn ran down the steps with keys to vehicles parked under the house. "The Fire Service is already on its way!" I was told.
I grabbed the list I had made of things I would want to save if a fire was to come. Within minutes I had four boxes of photo albums, documents, etc in the car, with the dog and my bag. Then I grabbed my camera (as you do!). Glenn had gone to get his backhoe and join the fire crews now arriving.
My head kept saying, "No, this isn't real!" But the Victorian bushfires were still very vivid in mind and I could just imagine how those people must have thought just the same thing.
I took this photo looking from the side of the house and you can see the flames through the trees and the black smoke above. There were soon three helicopters and two fixed-wing aircraft dumping water as fast as they could refill from a local dam. One of the fixed-wing planes took a dive only 50metres down the hill from the house dumping water in an effort to save the house, very successfully. It was like something out of World War II! The noise of the water bombers, their sirens as they were about to dump, the fire trucks, their radios, and the fire itself was frightening; I felt like I was on a movie set. Four fire units had arrived too and were finding their way around our firebreaks which encircle the 17acres of native bushland on which we live.
The police arrived at the house. They advised me to leave. I drove down our track to the road which was the opposite side to where the fire was raging. Woody and I sat there wondering what we would go back to.
Fortunately, the wind had dropped. Had it increased I may not be sitting at this desk right now - more likely sitting in the shed next to my swag!
About an hour later the policeman came by and said he was pretty sure our house would be ok so not to worry, but to wait. When I eventually drove back to the house I could see how lucky we had been. The fire crews had done a magnificent job, saving us and the house on top of the hill also.
That night when we looked from the balcony we could see numerous little spot fires burning around two sides of the house and the smell of smoke was still in the air. We could hear the odd tree falling; first a cracking noise
and then the inevitable
"CRASH!" In the morning we took a walk to see the reality of it all.
Poor Woody knew something was very wrong during the fire; the noise, the panic, me rushing around and keeping him close. He wanted to bark at someone or something in an effort to join in and help in some way. So he barked at the helicopters. Bless... Above in this photo I see now that his ears were down as he looked around, wondering what the hell has gone on here?
This is what the grass trees (xanthorrea) should look like:
This is what the burned out half of our 17 acre block used to look like:
And now...
It's not politically correct to call these grass trees "Black Boys" as they used to be called - but it has to be said that they do look like little black people with their little top-knots left poking out their heads.
There is no doubt these wonderful beings will come back. Grass Trees can live for up to 600 years and they only grow 1-2cm a year. So this one in the photo above has to be about 180years old!
I was pleased to see that the heart of this Zamia Palm, the only one I could find, was still green. The only evidence of the numerous Zamias that used to grow throughout our bushland were short, scorched spikes sticking out of the blackened ground.
Unfortunately, the side of our property that has been burned was the most colourful side in Spring. The variety of Spring flowers that appeared from what seemed to be nowhere every September was magnificent. And the orchids... But I must not be morose and negative. The Australian bush is used to fire; it was built for it and it thrives on fire. It is a proven fact that the smoke causes seeds to germinate.
So now we have the pleasure of watching the regrowth and regeneration. All I need is patience! and some rain would be nice!
This fire was started by an arsonist, as was a fire in Kings Park in December 2008. I was so pleased to see tucked on to the end of the ABC main evening news just last week a report from Kings Park that new shoots were appearing. Considering we have had only a day or maybe two of rain since that fire, it just shows how resilient the Australian bush is.
This beautiful
Shingleback Lizard however, was not so resilient. He cannot regrow. The crows had feasted on his innards. We did not, I'm glad to say, come across the burnt carcass of Eric (or Erica) our resident echidna though. So maybe he or she was out shopping at the time.
There are no cars on the island except for service vehicles so most people hire bikes. There are some lovely old buildings on the island and the wildlife seem to treat them as their own.
There are perfect beaches all the way around the island.
Rottnest Island is famous for its population of Quokkas. They are sweet little marsupials who wander around the island like they own it. Well, they do!
This is where Helen discovered she had her hat on back to front.
