Natural disaster brings out the best and worst and is certainly a reminder of just who is in charge. It has been a strange privilege to be in the midst of the Longwood fires.
Wednesday 7th January – who would have thought that sitting in a zoom meeting at 3pm with the William Buckland Foundation, talking about funding for this very patch of Strathbogie to support G2G, that Susie Bate, worried for Jack on the fire truck and Justus Hagen, rummaging in the background for fire gear, would prove so ominous.
My heart was desperately heavy all Thursday, hearing of Wallaby Gully burning, then my dear friends Justus and Janet having lost their home – so many loved places and people under threat. Trusting my husband’s judgement that he would keep himself and his team safe in those hills while scanning weather, winds and forecasts and preparing home.
We spent the night at mums in Alexandra – thankfully convincing her to travel with my brother to Melbourne until the worst was over. Friday morning, returning home, checking our preparations with Steve, turning on our sprinklers and walking away. I was so relieved Steve chose to leave home. We feared we were not defendable in catastrophic conditions. Steve went to Whanregarwen Station – being the fire captain comes with heavy responsibility. Tobes and I went to work watering gardens, checking fittings, filling vessels and watching weather. My friend Jodie just down the road, briefing neighbours, watching panic and mayhem unfold on Leckie Oval as people congregated and winds and smoke built. I felt safe, despite it all. In a secure house with my son and dog by my side and in contact with my husband. We had a good plan, we were together, I did not think we had a house. I felt sure it had gone. I spent part of the day planning a new one in my head. At 6pm I watered at the Taungurung nursery – no water system when the power is down, then trotted to Jodie at 8 for a quiet chat in her garden. Winds finally dropped, the air cleared a little and we could be calm. At 2am a welcome text – Steve was going to bed at home! We had a home!
Returning home came with a sharp reality. Crystal Creek Road was burnt, although most neighbours had housing intact, not necessarily sheds. The grand old matron River Red Gum, sentinel of Grannies Lane, is burning through her core and threatening to fall. She finally fell Saturday afternoon. A sad demise after 500 years or so, but countless offspring around her.
Observations from these few days:
This is where our men rise to the challenge of life. Their steely resolve in a crisis, their fierce protection of all that is dear to them. The best in our menfolk shine through as they rally to protect their family and community. Truly, their inner warrior rises, and they are strong and pillars to rely on. My son, so full of life and energy, problem-solving, alert, watching – a constant by my side. My husband, confident in his family, out in the direct line of fire, demonstrates decisive leadership in keeping his team and community safe. Exhausted but relentless as he protected all he loves.
Young men, standing beside their mums, husbands protecting property and animals, families working together – this is what crisis allows to shine through.
Not all in a crisis shine. Loss and fear often turn pain into anger and blame. Anxiety, wanting to blame authority. Perhaps we should each take a share of the blame. Surely it is our lifestyles fuelling climate change that is part of the crisis unfolding.
And what of the women? We, the nurturers. With the elderly and children our responsibility charged with keeping our families safe. I’m a head counter. Counting my beloveds, making sure no one is left behind. Others are taking families to safety, out of the line of danger. Walking away, hoping and praying, filled with angst and worry for homes and country.
We are still in the midst, and yet as leaders, what must we do to begin to rebuild? How shall we turn this anxiety, this grief to calm and hope? Surely, we must sit with this grief. We must walk through the ashes, mourn and expose our pain, scream and cry our laments. Allow our chests to be torn open, our inner being to bleed. To grieve for country, for our people, for animals, for the matriarchs of the forest who have lost their lives. Let us honour their lives with our grief. And in our grief, let us choose places to nurture. To walk the journey together of healing. When seedlings sprout to be protected from weeds. When rivers flow, to erect fences to keep stock from further polluting or damaging banks. To allow nature to respond without adding stress to her. When deer browse or foxes take exposed chicks, let us work to remove the invaders. Let us be the fierce protective force we were when the threat was at our doorstep.
In that fierceness, let there be a turning. As new shoots begin, let there be hope. May we be a conduit to bring calm, to bring green once more, to allow healing to our people and our land. Surely, this is the way forward, for people and country. Standing side by side as we rebuild. The long, hard journey of recovery, beginning with grief, but always hope, always love, always nurture.
Do not turn away from this pain. It is this pain that is our source for renewal, for care for love. It is the seed to bring life and healing to country.
With so much love and gratitude for my family, my home, my community, my country,
Cathxx
Cathy Olive
Development Manager