In Australia, I have always tended to find myself in bushland surroundings; whether it be the dry husk in the middle of nowhere, or located near conservation parks; trees seem to have a strong drawing power for me. I like it. The bush offers great wildlife, and even in suburbia, the bush provides a sense of space; a sense of peace; a sense of solitude, despite the awaiting concrete catastrophe humming in the background like a swarm of bees. There is a lot of beauty in the bush; in winter especially. I love to journey deep into the soul of the nearby bush and immerse myself in the colour, the smells and sounds; doing so is about as close to nirvana as I reckon I am ever likely to get.Unfortunately, the big risk in living with untamed bushland on your doorstep, besides the inevitability of snakes, is bush fire, and in this part of the world, along with the ensuing drought, this threat is absolutely real.
South Australia, along with other parts of Australia, has had its fair share of bushfire already this season, but Friday, fire was threatening the closest suburb next to us - it is not a good feeling to hear the unnerving wail of emergency vehicles, nor smell the faint yet distinct aroma of smoke, and it is rather alarming to nonchalantly duck outside to hang out the washing, only to catch sight of a water bombing helicopter flying over head, amidst dumping a load of water, seemingly in the next street. Where is it? How far away is it? Are we safe? These are questions that filter into the old scone, prompting the Internet to be switched on in search for answers.
We were in effect, safe. The fire, in no way compares to those recently experienced in California or even in Kangaroo Island for that matter, stands as a warning that bush living offers both gifts as well as dangers. You see, life is fundamentally, always about balance.
