I didn't take too much notice when I heard two sets of sirens. I'd just had a glass of iced water after climbing out the shower...fatigued from driving a few hundred kilometres from the centre of the Wheatbelt at the end of a night shift. It was the vibration from the helicopter that stopped me sinking into an exhausted sleep. A look out my front door shook me awake. I threw a small orange bag that I'd bought from the Wild Coast of Kwa Zulu on to my bed, before deciding to see if my neighbours were aware. They had just walked over to my porch to alert me…it was close. I think I threw in a pair of khaki "boardies", some black long pants, two tee-shirts (one which said, "screaming, naked, hysterical" on the back), a towel, my toiletry bag and two pairs of spotted navy blue underpants from Target. Bugger taking any possessions with me and I would die if I didn't have clean underpants. I looked up and remembered the vision of the low-flying yellow plane swooping over my trees and my Chinese warrior statue. I felt humbled. Like an image from 'War of the Worlds', an enormous, orange chopper flew in and rose out of the smoke, making great circles over me as it dropped tons of water from a red hose. I could see drops falling as it circled above me, expecting to feel the spray. I was worried about the wind…it had been a bit gusty, which could change the conditions in a moment. It was also hot. Not unbearable, suffocating heat, but skin- seering, blindingly hot. A crow landed on the eave of the roof next to me and our eyes connected for a few seconds. She usually brings her baby in to drink and sometimes leaves it in the tree opposite. The baby crow was there now, watching her mother. When the police set up road blocks, I heard the cockatoos. They were stressed and had been calling from different spots in the reserve, watching. The tiny group of three cockatoos settled in a land-mark tree across from me. Their fledgling was only a few months old but it was nearly bigger than they were. For a few weeks, a male had flown across the Leda reserve a few times a day with food for the female. I knew there was a nest somewhere. One day, the pair began bringing the chick with them and I still feel excited when I watch them feed. The baby cockatoo usually sits higher in the trees while the two adults fed a bit lower down…they call the whole time they are feeding. It's feathers are still dark, so its hard to see if it's a girl or male. They slept in the trees one night, opposite my house and the baby cockatoo shrieked and made delighted little noises when it caught me stepping outside at two in the morning. Today, they pulled up their crown feathers and called from the tree. I sat down. After a few minutes, they finally flew on. My neighbours were sitting on their wall and some kids were sitting down in front of my house. Standing at my fence, I was overwhelmed with happiness when the danger of the fire was over.I cried because I was happy, turning my face to the side so I could wipe away the water flowing from my eyes. Overnight, crews assembled and filled their trucks with water next to my house. ..most of the night. I didn't sleep but the sound of the crew's voices and the blue and red lights flickering around me, with sound of the water, gave me the confidence of a viking. Many, many people kept us safe last night, asking nothing of us except that we be.
* 75 hectares of the reserve have burnt in two fires since Sunday. DFES are giving safety and evacuation advice on their website. Leda Nature Reserve is a small, precious, natural space that is home to native owls and other amazing birds. It's trees are used as vital landmarks by birds that fly long distances, such as the red-tailed black cockatoos and Carnaby Cockatoos. They regularly take shelter in groups before storms and, amazingly, because it is a feeding ground, use it as a large bird airport. Hail breaks their regular flight paths, so when similar reserves have been eaten into by housing, large groups of endangered and native birds get smashed by the hail and take years to recover their numbers. Hence, this is a vital but fragile bird-space.
