Summer is officially over, but we are reminded that fire season isn't. Tuesday is now being heralded as the worst day since Friday and schools may close again. To say I am sick of it is an understatement. Clouds have sat grey and swollen, low in the sky, all day. We have waited anxiously for them to open. Everything is so parched and dry. Tuesday isn't going to be hot, but they are expecting winds at 150km an hour. Weather. All this weather and no rain.
These photos were taken by Martin yesterday just up the hill from us, about five minutes drive away. I hasten to add that from our house we can't see any of this, we still have green bush across the road. It is utterly unbelievable to me to think: walk down to the road and turn right. Cross the bridge. Walk another five or ten minutes and there's this, the world deprived of colour:
The road past Mitten's Bridge is still closed. Martin went through with friends to help them clear their property and pick up the oddments that survived, a kid's playgym. A letterbox. Bits and pieces.
This last one I took in our front garden on the evening of Sunday the 8th. The whole garden glowed radiant orange red. It was the most terrifying beauty I have witnessed.