for everything really, not writing, not house-cleaning, not getting out into the garden. As we sweltered through that first week of temperatures above 42 every day (that's over 110 for you farenhite people), we thought we were in hell waiting for a cool change.
In reality hell was just waiting. And I feel sure that some Victorians this week feel as if they have been priority expressed to the lowest level. These truly terrible bush fires have raced across our state at such a shocking speed and with such horrific effect, we are all shellshocked and none of us is untouched by the tragedy. I don't think you could find any one who has not been directly affected. Reporters talked of war zones; towns we knew well now look as if an atomic bomb has been detonated.
The stories.
The bravery, the loss of loved ones, the disbelief that all you own may be the clothes on your back. The mere seconds with which so many escaped their homes before they became their tombs.
The fire-fighters. There are not enough words to describe the courage of these men and women. Most of them volunteers, quite a few losing their own properties while trying to save others.
And for me now, the helplessness of not being able to do much to help. Our area was spared this time (although until just a few days ago it was where the worst ever fires had occurred in this state 26 years ago). Pray, pray and pray. Give money - that's easy. But I am hoping that a better way to help will emerge. I have already rang and offered support in counselling, and therapies. Of course at this stage, injuries, food and shelter are the prime importance. And sadly as different areas are declared safe to investigate, more bodies are being found.
Every day we get up and find our world is pretty much the same way we left it when we went to sleep is a blessed day.
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