The wind has changed again. It must have.
I’ve been reading a book. Another retelling if the Arthurian Myth and like many of the better ones it bases itself squarely in reality with the land being littered with marks of the former Roman conquerors, and the constant war between Christianity and the Pagans. I have just finished a section detailing the battle at Mynydd Baddon also known as Mount Baddon and where (in this book in any case) Arthur and his forces finally defeated the Saxons. It was a bloody battle all told, of men, dead, crippled and dying lying with their hounds and horses, their broken shields and spears and blades, among burning shelters. The imagery is vivid and it hits me more powerfully than ever before by words in a book.
I can smell the burning. However, it’s not powerful writing that gets to my senses, it’s the smell of loss that I can smell, the loss of homes and valuables, and lives, I guess, that assails my senses. You see parts of my city are on fire. The burning is dropping ash on my home in the Eastern Suburbs of this city as it did on Christmas day, when the sky was grey with smoke, and the sun burned red.
I’ve never had the chance to look at the sun properly, as it always is too bright to look at without hurting my eyes. But yesterday I could do just that, as the sun’s rays were masked by the smoke, and the colours of the sun matched the colours of the flames that ring the city.
Now, I can smell the burnt city as it wafts toward us. Yesterday a westerly blew the smoke to us, but today an easterly kept it away. Perhaps now the westerly has returned and the air is heavy with the smell of burning.
Up in the mountains I have friends and I wonder how they are and I hope they are safe. The fires spread further and further and more people are forced to leave, and the flames creep closer to the city proper. Dear Alice, Matt & Kate, Peter, Madeliene, Rhiannon & Tanith, and Pike’s daughter Lily and her mother and their family live in the mountains now afire. And southwards the fires rage as well, and more people are in danger, Liz, Greg & Caroline all living in the beautiful south coast may well be paying the price for the peace and quiet of their homes. And north, I have friends who also may well be caught in the fires that are burning there. All through the state these fires continue to burn.
In 1994 we had similar fires and they were stopped only kilometres from the heart of the city, and I remember playing cricket in Moore Park and the ash dropping on the pitch, carried many kilometres on the hot wind that fanned the flames.
Now I can only wait and hope that my friends are safe and well and that the people of the city can come together and stop these flames and then help our friends put things back together. I hope that your friends are safe and well also. In any case, this is a Christmas that none of us will soon forget.
I can smell the burning. However, it’s not powerful writing that gets to my senses, it’s the smell of loss that I can smell, the loss of homes and valuables, and lives, I guess, that assails my senses. You see parts of my city are on fire. The burning is dropping ash on my home in the Eastern Suburbs of this city as it did on Christmas day, when the sky was grey with smoke, and the sun burned red.
I’ve never had the chance to look at the sun properly, as it always is too bright to look at without hurting my eyes. But yesterday I could do just that, as the sun’s rays were masked by the smoke, and the colours of the sun matched the colours of the flames that ring the city.
Now, I can smell the burnt city as it wafts toward us. Yesterday a westerly blew the smoke to us, but today an easterly kept it away. Perhaps now the westerly has returned and the air is heavy with the smell of burning.
Up in the mountains I have friends and I wonder how they are and I hope they are safe. The fires spread further and further and more people are forced to leave, and the flames creep closer to the city proper. Dear Alice, Matt & Kate, Peter, Madeliene, Rhiannon & Tanith, and Pike’s daughter Lily and her mother and their family live in the mountains now afire. And southwards the fires rage as well, and more people are in danger, Liz, Greg & Caroline all living in the beautiful south coast may well be paying the price for the peace and quiet of their homes. And north, I have friends who also may well be caught in the fires that are burning there. All through the state these fires continue to burn.
In 1994 we had similar fires and they were stopped only kilometres from the heart of the city, and I remember playing cricket in Moore Park and the ash dropping on the pitch, carried many kilometres on the hot wind that fanned the flames.
Now I can only wait and hope that my friends are safe and well and that the people of the city can come together and stop these flames and then help our friends put things back together. I hope that your friends are safe and well also. In any case, this is a Christmas that none of us will soon forget.