It was 1 a.m. and sleep would not come. Wind tore through the canopy and smoke from distant blazes hung heavy over the valley. Pastures and eucalyptus bushland were feeding a fire front expanding about 90 kilometres north of our mountain home outside Melbourne. Between us and the flames lay endless, dry gullies and a single road out—making the place both beautiful and dangerously exposed.
The night before I had been messaging a friend whose family runs a large property in the growing fire zone. Everyone except his brother had already left; he was waiting on a hoped-for change in the wind. When I told him we planned to go in the morning he replied, “Definitely leave. Sounds like a bad day tomorrow.”
The forecast for the next day was stark: a heat wave with temperatures up to 46 °C in parts of Victoria and strong winds that could drive existing fires into something much worse. Authorities declared the conditions “catastrophic.” It was the kind of weather last seen during the 2019–20 “Black Summer” fires, which burned an area roughly the size of the United Kingdom, destroyed more than 3,000 buildings, killed 33 people and displaced or killed billions of animals.
During Black Summer we were living in Germany. This time we were back in the same house we had occupied during the 2009 Black Saturday fires, when 173 people perished—many in the valleys below our cabin. Back then we had been inexperienced. We left late as ash fell and cyclonic winds turned hundreds of square kilometres of bush into an inferno. People who fled too slowly were found burned in their cars. We were among those who escaped to a pub with other locals and watched the flames roar across the mountain; a late shift in the wind spared our valley.
Black Saturday is often marked as a turning point—the first of Australia’s modern megafires. The driest inhabited continent has warmed about 1.6 °C since pre-industrial times, roughly 1.4 times the global average, and recent years are among the hottest on record. Eucalyptus forests have evolved with fire, but hotter, drier conditions and heavier fuel loads are producing larger, more frequent and more intense blazes that can even generate their own lightning, storms and hurricane-like winds.
That growing predictability of extreme fire weather has changed both policy and behaviour. After Black Saturday many people adopted a “stay and defend” mindset, choosing to remain and protect their homes. But inquiries into those fires prompted authorities to overhaul guidance: when danger is extreme, people are now urged to leave early rather than wait and attempt to defend.
When these fires peaked last week, Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan strongly urged residents to evacuate. “I know how hard it is to leave homes,” she said, “but it’s the best way to save lives.” We heeded that warning and drove out the morning after a sleepless night; some neighbours had already left in the middle of the night.
That behavioural shift has been reinforced by better warnings and more local information—emergency apps, real-time weather updates and council alerts—allowing people to make decisions sooner. In 2009 we relied on radio and foggy reports; firefighters then had to divert scarce resources to rescuing people who had stayed too long.
Communities are responding differently now, too. During these fires neighbours opened their homes to evacuees. A friend who owns a pub outside the immediate danger zone offered hotel rooms and told me, as his venue filled, “People can camp in the band room if needed.”
Still, the destruction has been severe in places. Fires tore through settlements in central Mount Alexander Shire around Castlemaine, destroying dozens of buildings. The local mayor, Toby Heydon, reported no direct fatalities—one man suffered a fatal heart attack while fleeing—and commended residents for putting safety first by leaving early.
Federal leaders visited affected communities, but the disaster has also fuelled political debate. Critics pointed to the government’s approval since 2022 of 32 major fossil fuel projects expected to produce more than 6.5 billion tonnes of greenhouse gases—an amount some experts equate to about one‑eighth of annual global emissions. Burning fossil fuels remains the principal driver of climate change, and many commentators noted the stark irony of record heat and extreme fires striking a major fossil energy producer.
So far in these Victorian fires one life has been lost and the state has been declared a disaster zone. Properties in our valley were spared and we returned after two days in the city, but relief was tempered. A friend who had urged us to leave later discovered his family property near Yea—built over generations—had been destroyed; fire trucks could not save it.
Few people remain untouched by the escalating threat of wildfires. The shift from defending at home to evacuating early appears to be saving lives, backed by improved warnings and community solidarity. Yet unless emissions fall and the climate crisis is tackled, increasingly extreme fires will continue to ravage communities and landscapes.