Fire

We drove through the back of Kinglake the other day, on our way up to Yoga Camp in northern Victoria. It was a shock to see how intensely charred the landscape was. And made me appreciate really deeply the grace that allows me to be living without the brutal caress of the flames in my own home.

The black ribbon of bitumen wound its way through a silent landscape, the very earth itself blackened, the only other colour a dusty brown - the brown that exists when plant tissue has no water left in it. The shiny silver railing along the road highlighted the charcoal colours like a well chosen frame.

It makes me wonder how long the part of earth called Australia will tolerate us living here. She could starve us out all too easily. Burn us out all too easily. Or maybe she will wash us away just when we think we can adjust to living in a desert. The ferocity of the flames brought an awareness that maybe not even our comforting blanket of asphalt and concrete is enough to protect the heart of the city.