How the light changes

It’s been a slow and careful week. It rose from numbed shock to hectic doing, or trying, or thinking, or shielding and swept to stillness. Sunday was so quiet, light and sound muffled.

I’m not quite ready to be still; I was busy all day Saturday, on my feet, walking through the house, up and down to the studio, doing things, planning, thinking, turning over. There’s a hall cupboard that’s still recovering from my thorough attack (and the thought creeps through, I have a cupboard). A broom rests against a bookcase in the studio, possum crap swept and tossed, boxes lifted and shifted, a laptop blinking on the shelf (and the thought tosses itself through the open door, I have stock to count).

Sunday seemed normal. Cupcakes to plan and bake and ice and decorate; a keen footballer to sign up. We arrive at the club, a little before lunch, knowing that it’s unconstitutional for a footy club not to have a sausage sizzle on sign up day. Proceeds, the sign simply stated, to the family of an under 18s player whose house was lost at St Andrews. We queue in casual lines, and I wonder how many keen footballers aren’t signing up today, here and there.

The decorating of the cupcakes is negotiated, prepared and finally, done. The lass concentrates carefully but she is confident of her skill and knowledge and instructs me on what I ought not to do. It’s a comfort of the everyday, the mixing and talking and smiles and little frustrations. It almost stills me but the thoughts return, others have lost the comfort of everyday.

The light changes so much in a week.

Black Saturday morning. 41C at 11.30am.

Black Saturday morning. 41C at 11.30am.

Smoke haze sunset as the wind stills

Smoke haze sunset as the wind stills

"A terrible beauty is born..."

"A terrible beauty is born..."

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3 Comments

  1. Stomper Girl said,

    February 19, 2009 at 11:09 am

    This week I feel like the smoke haze will never go away. And did you see the bushfire moon on Friday night? Such a glowing red orb, reflecting the tragedy.

    Glad you and yours are okay.

  2. February 20, 2009 at 4:49 pm

    These images, your words, Stomper’s response – what a strange sad world you are living in at the moment down there. I saw a link to a SMH thing that showed the land (via google earth images) before and after the fires. It was wrenching.

  3. froginthepond said,

    February 21, 2009 at 8:02 am

    The Age carried a double page photo of scrub near Kinglake. It was nothing – charred sticks in ash. I know that it will recover but the heartache and the wildlife lost is bewildering.


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