Black Saturday.

I'm writing about the Black Saturday bush fires for an English assignment, and i remember just how truly horrific it was to have happened. It feels like yesterday, though it was more than a year ago. So many people have amazing stories to tell about their Black Saturday experience. Mine isn't much. This is my story on that day.

On February 7th, 2009, it was a scorching hot Summer's day. A bunch of my friends and I arranged a get-together at the Sale pool to cool off. There were a lot of us who showed up; about 20 or so. It was heaps of fun, filled with laughter and a carefree feeling about the day. Summer was in full swing - blue sky, sunshine, feel-good music wafting through the air, and the feeling of sunscreen and beach towels against our backs as we lay in the sun. Some friends left earlier than others, and the rest of us jumped back and forth from in the pool, to sunbaking, and back into the pool again.

After a few hours of this, Kirsen and I were a little peckish and went into the canteen area to grab some food. We were inside for no longer than 5 or 10 minutes.
As we headed back outside again, everything felt strange. An eery silence had fallen over the pools. Laughter and splashing sounds had stopped completely. I looked above me, at the previously clear blue sky, and revealed the cause for silence.
A great big, purpley-grey cloud rolled in, rapidly covering the sky, turning the bright shining golden sun into a small ball of crimson red. The happy music had been switched off, and the once blue pools, riveting with play now seemed dark and silent. Winds picked up from the same direction of the menacing cloud. Lake Guthridge looked dark, purple and angry as choppy waves lashed against its sides.

Kirsten and i hurried over to who was left of our group of friends, and all of us agreed on leaving. We said goodbye to the others, and Steph, Kirsten, Pat and I walked out the pool gates in the direction of our homes.
By now the cloud had completely covered the entire sky, and an orange haze spread across the town. The winds were hot and stung against our sunburnt skin, blowing ash and dust in our eyes. Steph and Kirsten turned down their streets and said goodbye. Pat and I picked up speed, walking speedily towards my house.
As soon as we walked through the gates, we both ran to the front door to escape the potent smell of sulfur and smoke. Inside the air-conditioned house of refuge, my parents sat, watching the Live News. Images of blazing firestorms flashed across the screen, engulfing whole forrests and towns.
Pat's father walked through the front door to pick him up and take him home, and a hot gust of sulfuric wind blew inside.
I knew people's lives were in danger, i knew it was serious, i knew it was horrible. But at the same time, i had no idea.

To think that while i was relaxing in a pool, loving life, others were burning alive.
We think we have it hot and stuffy in summer? Never again should we complain about heat, compared to what those lives went through.

I always think about something like this, and realise how many other similar events have occured in this world. Countless times in history, a completely unexpected, unpredicted event has happened without warning, and taken the lives of people who could have just as easily been you or me.
I know many people must have thought about these things before, but we still should remember these things more often.
R.I.P All 173 lost souls.
We all need to cherish our lives more.