EDITOR’S LETTER:
from the desk of The Weekly’s Nicole Byers
Igrew up in your typical suburban cul-de-sac street and was lucky enough to back onto a national park. As a kid this meant trips into our bush backyard to pick wild blackberries, search for tadpoles or collect silkworms to nurture in shoeboxes punctured with tiny holes.
I have memories of running under sprinklers on stiflingly hot summer days and cicada noise that rose to the sort of decibels that made conversation impossible. I also remember a lot of wildlife. The kookaburras we fed bacon rind to on the back fence, the constant fear of spiders – we always jumped on our shoes before putting our feet in them after a ghastly huntsman-in-ugg-boot incident. And then there were the snakes – I still have a vivid image of my grandmother brandishing a spade in the path of a death adder as my sister and I cowered behind her.
But my most frightening and striking memory is of bush fires. On a number of occasions we saw fire sweeping through the valley behind us, far enough away to not pose any direct threat, but close enough to reflect a red glow onto our windows and fill the air with heavy bushy smoke. Then one day the fire did get too close. My sister and I were deposited at a family friend’s place as Mum and Dad attempted to get to our house. As we watched the drama unfold on TV, I spotted our family car in the background of one of the news stories. I remember thinking I may never see my house, my toys or even my parents again. It was a helpless and horrifying feeling.
In the end we were lucky. A hose-bearing neighbour and a sudden wind change meant our home was spared. From that day forward the wooden trapdoor at the back of our house bore a series of char marks that reminded us just how close the fire had come.
This month marks 10 years since Victoria’s devastating Black Saturday fires, and we remember the 173 lives and countless homes that were lost that day (see page 40). Hearing the harrowing tales of those for whom the worst did happen and the impact it had on their lives and their communities is a stark reminder of the often brutal power of the elements in this great land of ours.
We also explore the importance of protecting our natural world, with a fascinating visit to Lady Elliot Island, the poster place for environmental transformation (see page 20). And who better to host us than our favourite conservationists, the Irwins.
Enjoy the issue, and a safe summer.