I'm sitting looking out at misty rain falling on the hills across the valley in the last of the daylight. We woke to rain on the roof this morning, such a beautiful sound, and still no wind.
Yesterday we harvested some of the treees that had fallen over our fence from the eucalypt forest next door, careful to avoid standing under anything looking precarious. I took more photos of burnt trees and soil turned silver grey with ash - when I start a blog I'll put some of my photos in, it feels important to have a record of this time. Today when the wind was at its height we heard an almighty crack and crash in there, one of the old gums falling I guess.
Last night a neighbour came up as he was on his own. We ate dinner on the verandah, enjoying the stillness of a beautiful autumn evening, talking of the fires again and of the rumour I'd heard in Alex that Eildon was outside the cfa containment line as it was considered too hard to defend. I don't know if that rumour had any truth in it, sometimes rumours start out of someone's fear of what might be. When we found we were outside the containment line and so not going to be defended it was hard to accept, but I understand now. The fire was so hot and so fast, a line had to be drawn in a place that was defendable, and our road didn't appear to be.
This morning when it was so still and the rain was falling gently but steadily, it seemed that maybe the threat was over. We knew that wind was expected this afternoon though and so kept on preparing, covering the woodpile in the garage with carpet, covering things under the bench by hanging an old cotton rug over it all. Making sure the dog's beds were inside and no stray sticks had fallen on the verandah, although as Kerrin keeps reminding me, everything on our verandah ends up dripping wet!
This morning when it was so still and the rain was falling gently but steadily, it seemed that maybe the threat was over. We knew that wind was expected this afternoon though and so kept on preparing, covering the woodpile in the garage with carpet, covering things under the bench by hanging an old cotton rug over it all. Making sure the dog's beds were inside and no stray sticks had fallen on the verandah, although as Kerrin keeps reminding me, everything on our verandah ends up dripping wet!
Then the wind started. Taggerty gets some pretty amazing winds, especially where we are. The wind seems to whip around the mountain and sometimes arrive from several directions at once. It has been strong all afternoon from the north with some gusts seeming to come from the east. The gums over the orchard fence have dropped a couple of small branches (one landing next to Schnooks much to her surprise), so as I worked in the garden I kept a careful eye on nearby trees. The UHF radios (the correct name for our walkie talkies) kept us informed as we can hear the local firies still. Their conversations indicated that the Rubicon end of the Murrindindi north fire was burning back on itself.
Kerrin has just come inside saying the wind has changed. I hope the people at Jamieson are spared. I was talking to a girl who lives on the Thornton/Eildon road, she set her alarm clock every hour last night, turning on the ABC to check what was happening. I remember doing that on 7th Feb and then another night up here. Our adrenal glands were on overdrive for a number of days and I imagine hers are now.
The owner of the Marysville Bakery was in Alex today. She is receiving calls from all over Australia about customers, people trying to track friends and relatives down. Every day or so she hears of more people she knew who have died. It's just going on and on for people in the hardest hit areas and will continue to go on and on for a very long time.
Back at Taggerty our neighbours were all prepared for the worst again yesterday, today and tomorrow. We called on our closest neighbours just in time to see Doug's burnt arm - he burnt it on steam from the fire pump That Saturday. It's still a nasty red so we've suggested he leaves it open to the air more and given him some healing cream for it. We've decided to pool street resources (not the first time - our old red tractor is often seen up the road at work somewhere) to repair the fences. It's so much easier with a few people working together, and the load seems less when there's a community effort. Doug has a wire spool feeder we were thinking we'd have to buy and he's happy for a community effort in our street to use it.
This morning the street chatter on channel 13 of the UHF's had a communal feel to it. Lots of friendly banter as we all made contact and assured each other we were on air. I think we'll be sleeping with it on tonight but hope there won't be anything to hear.
When you are walking or driving down the street tomorrow, remember that the person in front of you might be trying to come to terms with loss of one sort or another. Last week Kerrin met up with the local pet supplies owner and held him while the two of them cried. Andrew's mother and stepfather lived in Marysville. She had been in Healesville hospital the night before and had just been discharged. He was a cfa chief and quickly assessed the danger of the fire, running across to the neighbours and telling them to leave, then turning and seeing the fire coming up the street and telling them to stay, it was too late to run. He went back inside to be with Andrew's mother who was crippled with arthritis. Their bodies were found in the laundry, holding each other.
The neighbours survived although their house didn't. They were inside when they heard the hissing of gas, they had forgotten to turn it off. They, with their two children, made a dash to the carport and into the car, sitting there with the airconditioner on and watching everyone's house burn around them. Their tin carport and car were the only things left standing. They have photos but Andrew isn't ready to look at them yet.
I'm not sure about including these stories, they are disturbing and very personal, but then what has happened is profoundly disturbing. Perhaps part of the journey for all of us is to remember that so many people around us have suffered in one way or another, and to be just a little more patient, a little more caring, a little more in touch with the personal. I intend my communications to bring joy but also to bring home the reality of what has happened.
I feel blessed to be sitting here at my dining room table with my computer. My piano is still behind me, our things are all around me, how wonderful.
It's beetle week - a beetle is swimming in my water, I think it's time to finish,
with love,
Marg
This morning the street chatter on channel 13 of the UHF's had a communal feel to it. Lots of friendly banter as we all made contact and assured each other we were on air. I think we'll be sleeping with it on tonight but hope there won't be anything to hear.
When you are walking or driving down the street tomorrow, remember that the person in front of you might be trying to come to terms with loss of one sort or another. Last week Kerrin met up with the local pet supplies owner and held him while the two of them cried. Andrew's mother and stepfather lived in Marysville. She had been in Healesville hospital the night before and had just been discharged. He was a cfa chief and quickly assessed the danger of the fire, running across to the neighbours and telling them to leave, then turning and seeing the fire coming up the street and telling them to stay, it was too late to run. He went back inside to be with Andrew's mother who was crippled with arthritis. Their bodies were found in the laundry, holding each other.
The neighbours survived although their house didn't. They were inside when they heard the hissing of gas, they had forgotten to turn it off. They, with their two children, made a dash to the carport and into the car, sitting there with the airconditioner on and watching everyone's house burn around them. Their tin carport and car were the only things left standing. They have photos but Andrew isn't ready to look at them yet.
I'm not sure about including these stories, they are disturbing and very personal, but then what has happened is profoundly disturbing. Perhaps part of the journey for all of us is to remember that so many people around us have suffered in one way or another, and to be just a little more patient, a little more caring, a little more in touch with the personal. I intend my communications to bring joy but also to bring home the reality of what has happened.
I feel blessed to be sitting here at my dining room table with my computer. My piano is still behind me, our things are all around me, how wonderful.
It's beetle week - a beetle is swimming in my water, I think it's time to finish,
with love,
Marg
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