Things have certainly settled down in Canberra over the last week or so. There were one or two high alerts mid-week as the mercury hit 40, humidity was just a fond memory of balmy Brisbane summers and the wind couldn't make up its mind whether to gust at 40km/h or at 80km/h and often decided to do both within seconds of each other. Still, on Friday I saw a clear blue sky for the first time in over two weeks. I never thought that I would this happy to just be able to see more than 50 metres ahead of me.


H and I went for a tour of the more devastated areas of Canberra on the Australia Day holiday. We went for a walk in the Once Were Forests in the hills behind Chapman (the second most trashed suburb). The hills are black as far as the eye can see. A lot of the trees appear to still be there (we'd never been there before so we have no reference points) but all the ground is jet black and covered in a shed load of dust and ash and various other bits of debris and detritus.

I noticed a couple of weird/freaky/the coolness of nature (in a "You go, girl" type of way). The heat must have been incredibly intense in the firestorm because even the boulders I stood on were flaky and felt like they were about to crumble under my weight (I know I've chunked up a bit in the last few months but I'm not that fat yet!). The walking paths through the Once Were Forests are basically untouched. The dried and dying grass moping in the cracks and hollows still has the slightest touch of green, the path is still a compressed, dull (and definitely unburnt) brown and there is a real sense of "Well, hey, I don't know what all the fuss is about - came nowhere near me"). Finally, natural culverts and drains are full of bright splashes of green grass, most likely due to run off from people desperately saving their homes. It looked terribly out of place, and very nearly disrespectful. On the other hand, it was incredibly uplifting to see just how easy it is for things to return back to normal.

After checking out the Once Were Forests (and looking at some of the rubble and devastation from up high), we walked back to my car and decided to drive over to Duffy (number one trashed suburb). We started driving down Darwinina Terrace. The houses all looked like they'd escaped the worst of it so I concentrated on watching the road. All of a sudden, I looked up and there was nought but empty shells were people's homes had once been. It was a humbling experience.

Some of the roads into Duffy were sealed, so we parked the car nearby and went for a walk along one of the worst hit streets, Eucembene Drive. On side of the road is where the houses are supposed to be. The other side of the two-lane street is totally ACT Pine Plantation forest, which is right up to about a metre away from the side of road. Pine trees in plantations generally stand about 20-30 metres tall. These trees were also on a slight rise. As we walked past pile after pile of brick, rubble and ash, we stared in awe at what was around us. Looking at how close the pine plantation is, and how burnt out it is, I don't blame the residents for running for it. The reports on the day of the firestorm said that the fire was crowning in the trees (crowning means the flames had climbed up the trees and burning freely in the forest canopy) and were also burning up to 20-30 metres higher than the treetops as well. I'd been thinking in the week before that maybe people had themselves to blame a little bit for their house burning down. I'd learnt over the past few weeks that the vast majority of house and property loss occurs after the fire front has passed (which rarely takes more than a minute or two) and that the houses are burnt down by unchecked embers. After looking at the height of those trees and their proximity to the local residents, I'd have got the fuck out of there too. No question at all.

The devastation in Duffy seemed so arbitrary. One house sat there, virtually untouched. The houses to each side weren't there anymore. The three houses behind weren't there either. In fact, two more houses behind them weren't there as well. What kind of insanity prevailed to leave that house standing, I can't even begin to imagine. I now understand why some people felt guilty that their house was spared.

Although we didn't live in the suburb, and I felt like an intruder and a ghoulish sightseer the entire time, I feel it was necessary for the two of us to see it with our own eyes. Without witnessing the devastation and destruction, there is no doubt in my mind that I would never have really comprehended it. How could you? Sure, there have been many pictures on TV and in the papers, and I've read many "survivor stories" in the paper on local Canberra community journals. Some of those stories were incredible, but I still didn't understand. Now I think I do, if just a little.