A walk in the woods, in a welcome break from the January heat

Unexpected and very welcome rain in January brought the Sturt River alive, and Coromandel Valley's beautiful Linear Park was a pleasure to walk. I hadn't intended to take photos yesterday, because I've photographed every meter of the park so many times, in every season, every lighting condition. In fact, I wound up taking over a hundred shots, of which these are the pick.

I'll always remember this walk (and the next, a couple of hours later, when we arrived at Belair NP and walked the "back trail" from The Oaks to the Railway Dam and back), as an an oasis of green in the midst of a blistering summer, three years into a catastrophic, nationwide drought, on a continent that's seemed to be on fire and gradually turning itself to ash.

Of all the bushfire photos and videos -- and there have been hundreds, if not thousands, this one is the one that's haunted me:


I don't believe I've ever seen anything, ever, to compare with this. Turn up the sound, and invest twelve minutes in this. Then salute our fire crews.

On the Railway Dam walk, I took many more photos, and I'll post again in a few days, when I've had a chance to sort them.

A nation literally reduced to prayer. Praying for rain

Originally I'd just intended to post the images are not say a word, but I've been on social media so much in the last few days, something is jumping off the screen at me, so I'll add my ten cents' worth while I'm blogging.

The fight is endless and bitter, with people on one side of the fence blaming climate change, folks on the other side chanting, 'No way, there's no such thing as climate change, it's all a hoax.' Then the argument is on, and in two minutes the gloves are off and it's a fistfight. People are so busy fighting about where to point the finger of blame, they're missing the point...

The time for apportioning blame hasn't arrived yet. Worry about it later. Right now, at this moment, this is all that matters:

It is too hot. It is too dry. We are on fire. Over half a billion animals have already perished -- and the traditional fire season hasn't even begun yet. Now, today, it barely even matters who's to blame. Fighting about it would be like ER doctors letting the patient lie there and die while they argue over who shot him! It's beyond stupid, so -- forget about culpability. Worry about it later, cease fighting over what can be put off till a more appropriate time ... get down to brass tacks, tackle the real problem. Throw fifty million dollars at these fires, get them out ... then worry about who's going to be imprisoned for environmental negligence, or political double-dealing, or whatever it comes down to in the end. For now -- rescue the animals that can be rescued, have the simple humanity to shoot the rest, quickly and cleanly; save what homes can be saved, get people out of danger; multiply the number of firemen in the field by 10x, give them state of the art equipment, and a fleet of water bombing planes -- and pay these people a handsome wage for the incomparable work they do!

Then, after we've taken a deep breath, we must all sit down and think, long and very hard, about next fire season, and how we're going to plan for it. Because the most terrifying thing is this: it can happen again. It will. It will keep on happening until some strategy is formed to cope with wildfires, even avoid them... and here is the bottom line: in all practical terms, it doesn't even matter if climate change is real or imaginary. Climate change or no climate change, you're still nailed hand and foot by cold, hard facts: for whatever reason, be it natural changes in the planet's climate cycles or even act of god, whatever that means -- it is too hot. It is too dry. We are on fire. Right now. 

Someone, somewhere, do something practical, realistic, feasible and effective about this -- and do it pretty damned fast. (If you like to pray, and would like to call this a prayer, you may say "Amen" now.)

Pictures: no, I don't own these pictures. But I hope the news services from which they're drawn won't mind me borrowing them, to get this message across. To me, it seems critically important.