By any measure, the past 12 months have been tragic for Kerry Dare.
“It’s been a year from hell,” she said.
Almost a year after her husband Alan was gunned down in the driveway of their neighbour’s property on Queensland’s western downs, Kerry is facing another crisis.
But as plumes of dark grey and black smoke edge closer to her home in Wieambilla, 300 kilometres west of Brisbane, Kerry’s humour and resilience is remarkable.
“We’re not stranded, we’ve got power, sausages in the fridge … but no iced chocolate, so I guess it’s only half good,” Ms Dare laughed.
Wieambilla is speck on the map where people seeking a quieter world carve out a self-sufficient life in the harsh, thick bushland.
It’s a place few people had heard of until December last year, when two police officers were killed in a shoot-out during a “religiously motivated terrorist attack“.
Alan went to investigate and was also fatally injured.
The region is in the headlines again this week as bushfires continue to ravage the area, destroying at least 16 homes and claiming the life of man trying to protect his property on Tuesday.
Late on Thursday afternoon, winds picked up again, turning the fire towards the small locality.
But fire fighters are hopeful the weather forecast will remain favourable, helping them control the blaze by the weekend.
It is the second time this year that fires have threatened Kerry’s home after flames crept close to her property in January.
“It’s déjà vu … [this] fire has been all around us again. But never reached our road,” she explained.
“I reckon Al was watching over me.”
Locals ‘tough as nails’
The land in this part of Queensland’s Western Downs is harsh and forested, thick bushland ripe for burning after another dry winter.
Roads throughout the Tara and Kogan district have been closed, power lines burnt, and telecommunications sketchy, but land owners here are self-sufficient, with large solar systems and dams for water.
The people here are “tough as nails”.
“I mean, some of us are being beat down, and are a little bit scared, but I don’t want people to feel sorry for us,” she said.
They would prefer if you came and shared a drink.
When it’s safe to do so, Kerry is keen to visit to the Wieambilla Country Club. The single building is the closest thing to a CBD the small locality has. It was nearly lost in the February fires, and still bears scorch marks.
“It’s a non-profit organisation, so the beer’s really cheap,” she laughed.
“But the first thing I’m going to order is an apple cider. It’s so refreshing.”
She then quickly adds: “The alcoholic one. I think I need that!”
Ready to evacuate
Kerry has spent the last couple of days checking on her new neighbours.
Damian Fairbairn moved with his brother Lucian and neice Emily, only four weeks ago from the Gold Coast Hinterland.
“We’re here to slow life down and relax. But it’s been a little stressful these last couple of days,” he admitted.
“I moved here after my son passed away, and I needed to reconnect with myself.
“I knew this area had endured all this tragedy, and I had endured my own tragedy, and maybe it’s difficult for someone else to understand, but I feel like I’m supposed to be here, supposed to be part of this.”
They have a car packed, ready to evacuate if the call comes.
Meanwhile, they keep an eye on the sky, waving to the water bombers as they fly overhead.
Reminders of the danger are all around. The grey smoke is in the air, and their eyes, and black scorched tree trunks line the roads for kilometres.
But they choose to find the colour in a world of black and grey.
“Every time I go out and tidy around the trees it seems like it gets a little bit greener,” Damian said.
“Our piece of land is connecting with me, and showing its beauty.”
They know it might sound like a cliché, but truly believe people out here choose to look on the bright side.
“It’s always bright out here, you have to have your sunnies on,” Kerry joked.
There’s always another joke, even when the conditions are deadly serious.
‘A little oasis’
Around the corner, Phil Kremmer has been pumping water from his dam, using sprinklers to keep his precious home and garden cool and wet.
“My frangipani decided it’d burst into flower, I think it thinks all the water was for it,” he said.
Two years ago, Phil’s welcome to the area was a flood.
“Then we had the shooting and now two bushfires,” he said.
“But, there’s not even a ‘but’ — life’s what you make of it, and my place is a little oasis.”
He said the disasters had made his resolution stronger.
“I love the physical place here, but there’s also the community,” he said.
“After the first fires, I felt I really became part of this community.
“We don’t give up easily.”
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