We want the fiery madness to be over – and we want rain
Helicopters carrying monsoon buckets through thick smoke over my home of four years is an image I will never forget.
The distressed call I got from my neighbour Katrin telling me that the hill behind our houses was on fire left me in no doubt that it was a big blaze. But the orange flames licking their way across Sir Stanley Whitehead Park, and the angry plume of smoke my colleague Stu and I saw as we drove down Bridge and Milton streets, confirmed our worst fears.
An uncontrolled fire had threatened the Wakefield area for four days. Now Nelson was fighting fire on its doorstep.
‘‘Yeah, it’s really bad,’’ I said over the phone to my partner, Clinton, who was at work in Stoke. ‘‘What do you want me to save?’’
Squeezing through a cordon, we dumped the car and ran up the steep steps to Iwa Rd. The scene that greeted us was surreal. Neighbours were dampening their properties with garden hoses, and Katrin was taking possessions down the steps to her car. There was panic, but there was calm.
My priority was to grab our overweight ginger rescue cat, Django. He wasn’t in the house.
‘‘What do you want me to grab?’’ Stu asked. ‘‘I dunno,’’ I said, grabbing my passport. ‘‘My new Trek mountainbike?’’ In a moment of Marie Kondo madness, it was the only thing sparking joy.
There are many moments I could write about. About how futile it feels to hold a lowpressure garden hose to dampen your garden in the face of an oncoming bushfire. How Clinton – who hates running – had to dump the car and sprint from Grove St in his white work overalls and gumboots. (He worked until police told him to leave, jamming our downpipes with towels and filling our gutters with water.)
How our neighbour, James, helped to protect our properties. He got so close that his shoes partly melted and part of a monsoon bucket was dumped on him.
Or about the stranger named Susan who ran towards our street to help us as everyone else ran away. She left her keys and her handbag in her unlocked car.
I could also tell you about the amazing sense of community in our street. Our boundaries are close, and we were close before – but this has brought us even closer.
I want to write about how it feels to know that this fire was likely deliberately lit. It had so much potential to endanger homes and lives.
I also want to thank the firefighters, the helicopter pilots, the police and the fluoro-clad contractors, and the ambulance staff who helped at the scene. I could feel the dedication, the focus and the effort that was going into battling that blaze. It was comforting and humbling.
Unlike the residents of Wakefield and the surrounding valleys, our scare is over. My home is safe, and I’m back sleeping in my bed. I only had a small taste of what they must be going through.
In the meantime, I just want this madness to be over.
I just want our region to come through this without more damage. I just want some good solid rain.
I want normality back.