The smell of smoke had long subsided, and we took a trip into the forest to see what effect the back-burning of ground litter had had.
There’s something beautiful about the red dust that our vehicle kicks up, as we go deeper and deeper into the forest. Nowhere in the UK has earth this vibrant colour.
We pass fire trails as we reach forks in the track. “Left or right?” I ask our son. “Left, we’ve never been there”, he says. And so, we end up at Mount Portal, looking out over the Nepean river, Sydney in the distance.
We are heading into autumn, and the light is low, casting long shadows through the forest. The ground is burnt, covered in a layer of ash, and the smell of smoke is still noticeable. Here and there, green shoots are rising out of the ground. The forest is renewed, and life is taking hold again.
2 thoughts on “After the fire”
I remember driving to Rouse Hill that day. The black cloud in the distance was quite ominous.
Many fires here in the forests where I live… I work about 15 min away and am always looking for which way the wind and the smoke cloud is going.