Work to do

If it weren't for the newspapers, television and radio, which spur conversation even between strangers, you might not know that, across the state, 26 fires are still raging ... unless you caught a glimpse of the smoke-lined horizon. But on a cloudy day, even that is obscured.

I write this to explain that I am in no immediate danger. I write this to confess that, in many ways, I sit as helplessly as any distant observer. And life roars on.

We have work to do. At our office this means phone calls, emails and event planning. But first we pause and pray for those with much, much harder jobs: treating burn victims, identifying bodies, investigating a devastated town now classified as a crime scene for suspected arson.

Emotions reach new depths, from anger at those who chose to destroy, to compassion for those reaping the destruction. Survivors are offered emergency housing, medical treatment, and free legal advice. Donation stands receive canned food, clothes and toys. From counseling to mobile phones, free goods and services spring from a seemingly bottomless well.

And yet, the ache must be insatiable. For the father who saved his house but lost his family, for those that watched the water tower boil as the bush disappeared, for the parents of the teenage sisters who died trying to save their horses, no gift will suffice.

This is so much worse than Australia's typical bush fires, I've been repeatedly told. A co-worker said we should remember that many countries experience this degree of devastation far more often. But, surely, no one ever gets used to it.