Canberra Bushfire anniversary

Tomorrow marks five years since the bushfire that raged through many of the leafy streets and suburbs of the place I now call home.  And, in a way, it was actually this event that finally made me inwardly accept Canberra as home.  A large part of it was triggered by seeing this cartoon a couple of days after -

I wish I still had the e-mail I wrote to friends just after it all happened, explaining our experience of it.  But I do remember not seeing blue sky for what felt like weeks on end thanks to the smoke, driving out to get some supplies and realising that the lights on Mt Taylor (which we now live right near the base of) weren't street lights but spot fires, shopping at the supermarket with everyone blithely ignoring the centre management's request to evacuate the complex, and staying tuned to local ABC radio (who were simply amazing on the day) until the power cut out.  We weren't really in any danger, though, like nearly everywhere else, we could have been with the right wind, but K was sufficiently worried about it to decamp with her sister to her place in Braddon for the night, leaving me with the ute already packed with valuables and the cat carriers ready in case I had to make a quick getaway. 

But to get back to the cartoon - Canberra's a funny old place at times, what with a little over 40% of the workforce in government, the locals here can be a little sensitive about the rest of Australia hating us because this is where the politicians are and where their hard earned tax dollars go.  As Geoff Pryor alludes to, it's often thought of as a place without a soul, without a heart, I expect thanks to the planned layout and "national" works of architecture around.

But damn, it's a tight community when it comes down to it.  I saw the scene depicted myself driving past the evacuation centre in Woden, with people dropping off mattresses and food and basically everyone pulling it together.  I think that part of the reason the post-fire enquiries went on for so long is because the community was so pissed off about the lack of planning and plain old policy foresight that allowed it to occur in the first place, underpinned by a deep seated pride in our surroundings and sorrow at what had happened to the bushland we're surrounded by and enjoy every day.

So I'd been in Canberra for nearly three years by this stage, had been living with K in our little townhouse with the cats for about a year and a half, and I just remember being so deeply impressed by the strength of this place, the hidden fortitude, the sense that dammit, we look after our own here and we don't care for a second what the rest of the country thinks. 

I'll always call myself a Queenslander and I'll always have a part of me that sings when I'm back in Brisbane.  But the time has now long gone - about five years now - where I'll answer queries about where I live by adding "...having moved there from Brisbane".  It's nearly enough to mean I'll start supporting the Raiders though we're not quite there yet... 

Couple of links - Wiki article here, some photos from the National Library's collection here.