Climate stories

My community was deeply affected by the 2019/2020 bushfires. I remember receiving a text from my parents, New Year’s Eve while I was at a festival in Byron Bay with my sister and friends. We all were from the Eurobodalla and receiving messages here and there from our loved ones about the scary events that were unfolding. Due to the fires affecting the towers, it was difficult for our families to communicate with us. We searched on social media for answers and became more and more concerned as we saw videos, pictures and announcements of homes, shops, natural reserves and schools we’ve known our whole life, now gone. We all held eachother closely and prayed our families and friends were safe. Until one of our friend’s received a call which turned into silence. Her close friend, a young, father-to-be who was helping fight the fires had passed away. The grief and fear we experienced was unexplainable.

We no longer wanted to celebrate the new year, and instead begged to go home and help our families. When we finally got in touch with our parents, they told us they were fine, but just so relieved that we were away from it all. They had evacuated, along with most of the rest of the community. They reassured us everything was okay but I could hear the fear in their voices. We closely watched the fire map and listened to the updates over the radio. A few days later, roads were opened so we could get home, our families advised us to take our time. When we got back, we drove through in silence, seeing the once beautiful green bushland and buzzing townships completely changed.

Although the fires had settled down, orange blankets of fire sprinkled through the bush and in tree hollows and smoke and ash filled the air. It was difficult to recognise it was daytime. After giving my parents the biggest hugs in their lives, I began unpacking the cars filled with important belongings my mum had thrown into the car for the evacuations.

A week later, on the 23rd of January, the wind had picked up again and we were advised the fires were getting worse and heading towards our property. We had to re-pack the car and hose the gardens. Preparing for the worst once again. I remember racing through my house and trying to take pictures in my mind of what everything looked like, in case it was the last time I’d see it. Our property is in the bush, a house my dad built with his own two hands and that my sister and I have lived in our whole lives. The fire was up our road and heading our way, we were told to evacuate immediately. I went to tell my father who told me to leave immediately, though told me HE had to stay. I screamed and cried trying to convince him to leave. We had heard too many people not making it out in time. He refused to look at me so I firmly said if he weren’t to leave then I’d stay to help him protect the property. I looked over to my mother whose eyes were beginning to well. I looked at both of them and knew I had to go with her. We camped out by the river, never certain where the safest place to evacuate would be. The local pub was open and feeding anyone they could. We knew we could rely on our community to help us out, more than we could see the government was doing. My dad came later and joined us for dinner, a breath of relief, we didn’t lose our home. A few days later I drove up my road to see how close the fires had come. Cow’s walked in hot ash who I learnt a week later had to be put down due to serious health conditions. We reached out to the community, and I learnt numerous of my close friends had completely lost their homes and pets. I couldn’t bare the thought of the billions of native animals and plants killed. We didn’t unpack the car for weeks.

My family and community is still deeply traumatised by the events that happened as a direct cause of climate change. I’m currently studying Conservation Biology as I want to better understand our natural environment and help in any way I can, to decrease the effects of climate change. Through my studies, I am becoming more fearful as the evidence is so strong, yet the government doesn’t seem to be taking it as seriously. It should be our number one priority. I deeply fear the future of our world and question daily whether it is worth having children of my own if we don’t take immediate action.