Melbourne was blanketed by tonnes of Mallee dust one weekday afternoon in FebruaryIn keeping with the dubious wisdom of the time, the decision was taken to close schools. Ashaving a solid 45-minute walk home and no mobile technology to arrange a lift.and we were guided in our surreal journey only by the glow of an increasingly orange sun.experience the effects of extreme weather.
Many of the posts – but far from all – acknowledge that the cause of the photo opportunity is the opposite of beauty. With fires raging to the north-east, west and south of where I live in far northern NSW – and dust being delivered from inland drought-stricken areas – these beautiful images might as well be coloured with blood. These insta-perfect photos are fired by devastation.
In my mind, as I stood bathed in the intense glow, I was taken back to the Black Saturday bushfires in Victoria. Though I was not directly affected, a friend lost her home after narrowly escaping and a colleague died defending his exceptionally well-prepared home. The overwhelming emotion of that day and those that followed – bringing news of death, destruction and loss in the face of catastrophic conditions – means that I live with a baseline of anxiety when there is fire about, even when far enough away that I know I am safe.Yes, the glowing red sun is beautiful. But it is fuelled by blood, sadness and loss. Perhaps itfirst week of spring are somehow unconnected with climate change.
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