Objects in the rear view mirror

But it was long ago and it was far away, oh God it seems so very far 

And if life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car 

And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

Meatloaf

The scene seems almost surreal. Nightmarish. Haunting. A lone kookaburra perched on a branch of a burnt tree. Torched, black bushland around him, thick dark clouds of bushfire ashes in the apocalyptic orange sky. The setting sun a dark red. Bushfires make for a dramatic sunset. A strangely beautiful, yet grotesque image of this week’s devastating bushfires.

It was my 90 year-old dad in Germany, that first made me aware of the ravaging bush fires in the area.

“Are you ok?” he asked via email. Hours behind, but miles ahead of me when it came to what was going on around me. The most dangerous bushfire week Australia had ever seen, with over 100 fires racing through Southeast Australia. State of Emergency declared for New South Wales. Fires in Sydney’s suburbs. Catastrophic bushfire conditions declared for the Greater Sydney Area for the first time ever.

I was ok. And obviously completely unaware of what was going on around me. Me in my perfect little bubble of ocean and beach and endless sunshine. The odd post on Facebook about fires raging in places I had never heard of. The smoke in the air from controlled back burning, that made us keep the kids in for recess. Not even when school closures for over 600 schools in the area were announced, and ours one of them, did the situation really seem dangerous to me. I don’t live in the bush. So, of course I’m ok.

I am not going to pretend to be an expert on bushfires in Australia. Or bush in general. Because clearly I am not. My very limited knowledge stems from talking to people and the internet. And so I can only write about what I read and hear and see.

The bush. Someone asked me why it is called bush fires and not wildfire like in America. Well, dah, I thought, because this ain’t America, and it is the bush that is burning. But what’s the bush anyway? A wooded area, dry soil, bushes and some Eucalyptus trees. A land where people do not live – a long way away from cities.

Well, with Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park nearby, there is bushland all around us. I drive through it every morning on my way to work, people live in it, our school is surrounded by bush. 

I can only write about what I know, and so one day this week, I set off to explore the bush right behind my school, looking for a small waterfall that came recommended by my colleague. 

A novice to bush walking, I have to admit, I was very ill-prepared and extremely naive and dumb in hindsight. Plan you route (kind of knew where I was going, but not really). Bring water (nope). Never walk alone (nope). Be aware of the current Fire Danger Rating and any bushfire alerts for the area (surely, catastrophic ratings the day prior didn’t apply anymore). And I was not even considering any dangerous animals lurking in the bush. Sometimes objects do appear so very far.

After some searching, I finally found the small trail leading through the thick bush, marked only sporadically by blue plastic ribbons tied to random trees. Slid down rocks, stumbled over roots (ok, maybe I have a tendency to fall), but after 20 minutes I had indeed found the tiny oasis my colleague had talked about. Distracted by the peaceful beauty of this place, I guess had not paid proper attention to the path leading me back to civilization. And I quickly realized what it meant to go for a walk in the bush. I had no idea where to return, falling over thick dried branches, tumbling down boulders, trying desperately to get back onto that faint track through the bush. Eventually I did and I have to admit, I have never been happier to see the school grounds. But I had learnt how powerful and wild nature still is out here, how quickly you can get lost in the bush. How fast things can turn and go wrong. 

The danger of bush fires lies in how quickly things can change and become dangerous. And so, given the catastrophic fire danger ratings and the proximity to bushland (right behind us), our school was one of over 600 schools in the area that decided to close on Tuesday.

With report cards due, this seemed to be a nice opportunity to stay home and catch up on some work, maybe even relax a little. Surely, this wasn’t going to be much different than a snow day back home. Well, it turned out, I was wrong again.

The worst thing that can happen to you on a snow day, is that you have to shovel the driveway yourself, because your kids are in pyjamas all day, playing video games. Yet, the threat of fires around us quickly increased throughout the day, homes being detroyed, people having to flee their homes. Though I did not have to have a bag packed, like colleagues of mine, in case they had to leave (though I do admit, I placed my passport next to my bed – just in case), or check the Fire-near-me-App to see if there was a threat to their home, things actually did appear closer and more ominous as the day progressed.

An extremely hot day with temperatures in the high 30’s (and this is still spring!), increasingly strong winds, super dry conditions due to the lack of rain, had fires in the nearby Blue Mountains and Sydney’s suburbs burning. By the afternoon the sky had turned an ominous hazy orange, the smell of smoke in the air.

And then the winds from the South came. Clearing the air, cooling it down. Within hours temperatures had dropped by over 10 degrees. A catastrophic fire day had come to an end. Until the next time. The new normal.

Pages and pages could be filled with reasons for this “new norm”. How climate change changes the nature of bushfires, makes them more dangerous, more extreme, creates drought conditions that are ideal for fire to spread. How the fire season has lengthened and starts earlier and ends later. How we continue to point fingers and blame each other instead of taking actions. The inaction of politicians. Our own complacency. 

How quickly we go back to our own everyday lives of report cards, and Friday night dinners, and weekend runs through the bush. That very bush that continues burning in other places. Things may not be as dangerous as they seem. But they may actually be closer than they appear.