Every now again and we burst into flames.
It kind of sucks.
It might be part of the natural eco system here, but Sydney basked in the ill lit fires of doom this afternoon as the smoke haze drifted in from the bushfires.
Even the cross city tunnel was hazy. Get down.
For our neighbours and friends who live in the burnt bits, we send our best wishes. Poor wee buggers.
It looks so nice out there, with all the native bush and then every now and again, it just frickin burns down.
FYI for our mates Overseas, Sydney's fringes are burning but the city is fine. Rural parts of NSW south coast, North and west, basically in fact everywhere, are slightly on fire a lot.
Images c/o
usa todayyahoo7 etc
Dealing with regular, sometimes catastrophic, bushfires is part of our national character, and for those who need some reminding,
here's Dorothea Mckellar speaking from a while back.
My Country
by
Dorothea Mackellar
(1885 - 1968)
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!
A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.
Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die-
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.
Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold-
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.
An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land-
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand-
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.