There is fire in the land

I’m reading about the fires and I’m shocked.  Didn’t we already learn how to warn people?  Didn’t we learn how to wait it out and survive?  It turns out, in Victoria this week, everything changed.  There was no time for warnings, and the old rules for protecting your house and your life didn’t work.

The bush is bigger than all of us.

Nature is stronger than all of us.

Around Christmas, a climber I didn’t know fell to his death in the Blue Mountains.  A friend of ours was with him, and told a tale of cascading coincidence that lead to a fall, a broken rope, and no way to help.  One death, a tragedy.

Now in Victoria the toll is at 173, and it will keep rising.  I can’t hold those numbers in my head.  Barista writes about it better than I can (thanks to Penthe).

You can donate via the Red Cross.  And send prayers and wishes and love.

  If you’ve got any long distance love left, spare some for the Queenslanders whose floodwaters are only just receding.  I wonder what Dorothy McKellar would think of her sunburnt country now.

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