Half-mast

The death toll ticks higher and is expected to surpass 200. Nearly a thousand homes have been consumed. The weather has cooled considerably, but eight fires still rage uncontained.

I know many of you are witnessing footage in your own homes and don't need me to testify to the horror. But, every time I try to send an update to assure you that I am okay, I am overcome by the stories of all those who are not.

At the office, where I work reception, I took a call from a man in Queensland where 60 percent of the state is flooded. He dismissed my concerns about the water, which he said would soon recede. But fire, he said, destroys everything.

He expressed his concern on behalf of those in his state, who have their flags at half-mast, even though the government hadn't asked for it. They are in national mourning, he said. Much like that caller, I feel helpless in the face of what Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has referred to as, "Hell and all its fury."

I continue to be safe but heartbroken. Entire houses disappear in three minutes. Fires jump freeways, scorch paddocks and trap those seeking last-minute escape. Livestock, livelihoods and lifetimes of labor are in ashes. The weight of human loss is immeasurable. The stories of survivors, such as those crouched in a gully and covered by only a wet sheet, are nearly unbelievable.