Welcome to Stories of Courage.
This is Helen Chung with an offering from my heart.
From the end of 2019 to the beginning of 2020,
Here in Australia we had the most catastrophic and devastating bushfires.
That time is known colloquially as Black Summer.
The world's eyes were upon us and along with their people's support,
Prayers and compassion.
And in the spirit of us Aussies,
We felt appreciated and humbly received it with gratitude.
As the country was beginning to recover,
There were whispers of the emergence of a new contagion,
Coronavirus.
I was in the middle of writing this story of the Black Summer fires and I decided to name the town that it's set in,
Rona.
Now anyone who knows the cheeky nature of Aussies know that we like our colloquisms,
So Coronavirus eventually was shortened to Rona.
Now little did I know that this term would be coined,
But I took it as a bonus because as we've seen in the fight against Covid,
There too emerged out of the Black Summer fires,
The courageous,
The brave,
The unsung heroes and heroines,
The Aussie spirit.
It is to them,
Those impacted by the Australian Black Summer fires,
That I dedicate this story.
It is your story.
This is your voice.
A town called Rona.
We begin our story in the true Aussie spirit,
Cheeky jocularity.
Summertime bliss,
Holiday season,
Time to let your hair down,
That is if you have hair.
Never mind,
To those who are hair follicle challenged remember our eminent Australian scientists,
As eminent as you can get,
Have developed an innovative device called the hat.
Look,
An intense golden glow,
It ignites the canvas of the sky.
You see a sunset,
A sunset like no other.
It mirrors the water,
Agitated by a rhythmic sway.
It's that time of year again.
It's the middle of summer,
So it's not surprising that there are clusters of holiday makers that are scattered along the shoreline of this quaint beachside town called Rona.
The glow of the sunset generously drenched the faces of the summertime tourists as they stare mesmerised out into the sea.
You hear the cry of children as they excitedly point out a few kangaroos hopping by.
And oh,
They've spotted some cuddly wombats and koalas.
What a beautiful place to holiday.
Yes,
This is a perfect snapshot,
A post of all posts to go viral on your Instagram and Facebook page.
A post,
A tweet that evokes envy for anyone who yearns for a sun baked holiday.
Blue skies,
Sand and surf.
A holiday that's worth enduring the infamous phrase,
Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?
Can you visualise it yourself?
Can you feel the warm sand between your toes?
Hear the muffled giggles of your children as you gasp for air,
As they are asphyxiated under the mandatory summer sand burial.
Do you smell the waft of caramelised onions,
Barbeque sausages permeating your nostrils?
The sound of hissing foam gurgling out of your can of beer.
Well before you let your imagination fly away,
Before you book that Airbnb at 20% discount with breakfast included,
Let us first join the beach goers down at the shoreline.
But first you must excuse your narrator as she snaps you out from her picture perfect imagination and drop you into reality.
You make your way down to the shoreline and despite having to wade through an atmospheric dark haze,
You gain some clarity.
You notice that there's an eerie absence of the usual chatter and the happy squeal of children that you've come to expect on vacation.
Then you realise that the crowds aren't staring at a glorious sunset,
They are in fact staring blankly,
Standing in a collective numb silence,
A silence shared amongst strangers.
You yourself take a step back and stare up at the sky.
It dawns on you that the golden sunset is not possible because it's in the middle of the day.
And then it becomes clear to you that this glow that towels over the cowering treetops is an angry firewall flickering,
No screaming aggressively at you.
I'm coming.
The burnt orange sky looks helplessly down on the raging fire that she had birthed.
You do though,
Thank your lucky stars,
For there's a large body of water separating you from him,
This fiery demon.
But then your head turns around abruptly,
You're startled by an unnerving crack,
It follows with a reverberating thud as a 200 year old tree snaps in slow motion to the ground.
She breathes her last breath.
My God,
Another outbreak,
It won't be long before this fire meets up with his angry brother to encircle,
Surround,
Stalk their prey.
You instinctively cower every time you hear a random explosion.
A summer ago you'd have mistaken it for the annual fireworks that the town happily puts on for their city visitors.
Down at the water's edge,
The crowd huddle with towels draped over their shoulders.
But wait,
They're not towels,
But they're actually woolen blankets.
They are there to protect the people from the flying ashy embers that ironically look like snowflakes but sting like wasps.
Wow,
What a day so far,
I think we all could use a decent toilet break,
But I beg you,
Don't do a number 2,
You're needed back here for the story of the brave is not over.
The good people of Rona still need you by their side,
So we'll see you in part 2 of a town called Rona.
This is Helen Chan with an offering from my heart.
Thank you.
