It was 1 a.m. and I couldn’t sleep as wind blasted through the forest canopy and smoke from distant fires hung in the air. Pastures and bushland were feeding a widening fire front about 90 kilometres to the north of our mountain home on the edge of Melbourne. Between us lay endless valleys of fire-prone eucalyptus forest, dried out over hot weeks and ready to ignite. Our single road out made the place beautiful—and vulnerable.
The night before, I’d texted a friend whose family owns a large property in the growing fire zone. All but his brother had evacuated; he was hoping for a wind change. When I told him we planned to leave the following morning he replied, “Definitely leave. Sounds like a bad day tomorrow.”
The next day brought forecasts of a heat wave, with temperatures up to 46 °C in parts of Victoria and powerful winds that would multiply existing blazes. Authorities issued a “catastrophic” fire danger warning. These were the worst conditions since the 2019–2020 “Black Summer” fires that burned an area the size of the United Kingdom, destroyed more than 3,000 buildings, killed 33 people and displaced or killed around three billion animals.
During Black Summer we were living in Germany. This time we were in the same house we’d occupied during the 2009 Black Saturday fires, when 173 people died—many in the valleys beyond our cabin. Back then we’d been naive. We left at the last minute as ash fell and cyclonic winds turned hundreds of square kilometres of bush into an inferno. Many who fled late were found burnt in their cars. We were among those who escaped to a pub with other locals and watched the fires sweep across the mountain; a late wind change saved our valley.
Black Saturday is often seen as Australia’s first megafire of the climate-change era. The driest inhabited continent has already warmed about 1.6 °C since pre-industrial times—roughly 1.4 times the global average—and recent years have ranked among the hottest on record. While eucalyptus forests are adapted to burn as part of their regeneration cycle, rising temperatures and drying fuel loads are creating bigger, more frequent and more intense fires that can self-generate lightning, thunderstorms and hurricane-like winds.
The increasing consistency of extreme fire weather has shifted policy and attitudes. In the years after Black Saturday, many residents routinely stayed to defend their homes. But investigations into those fires have led authorities to replace the “stay and defend or leave late” approach with guidance that encourages people to leave well in advance when risk is extreme.
When the fires peaked last week, Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan 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 followed that advice the morning after a sleepless night. Some neighbours had left in the middle of the night.
That shift has been supported by better warning systems—emergency fire and weather apps, and much more local information from councils—so people can make earlier decisions. In 2009 we had only radio and hazy reports; firefighters then had to divert resources to rescuing people caught in fires who had not evacuated in time.
Communities are also responding differently. During these fires, people opened their doors to evacuees. A friend who owns a pub outside the fire zone made hotel rooms available to those fleeing a large grass fire to the north and told me over text, “People can camp in the band room if needed,” as the pub filled up.
Several towns lost dozens of buildings when fires tore through settlements in central Mount Alexander Shire around Castlemaine. The local mayor, Toby Heydon, reported no direct casualties—one man died of a heart attack while fleeing—and praised residents for leaving early. “You guys put your safety and the safety of the community first by getting out of harm’s way,” he told people at a relief centre.
In the aftermath, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese visited affected towns. Yet some have questioned why the federal government has approved 32 major fossil fuel projects since 2022, projects expected to produce over 6.5 billion tonnes of greenhouse gases—roughly one-eighth of annual global emissions, experts say. Burning fossil fuels remains the main driver of climate change, and many commentators noted the irony of extreme weather amplified by climate change hitting one of the world’s largest fossil energy producers.
So far in these latest Victorian fires one life has been lost and the state has declared a disaster. Properties in our valley were spared and we returned home after two days in the city, but relief felt muted. A friend who urged us to leave later learned his family property near Yea—built over generations—had been destroyed; several fire trucks could not save it.
Few people remain untouched by the devastation of worsening wildfires. The change in advice—from defending at home to evacuating early—appears to be saving lives, supported by better warnings and community responses. But unless emissions decline and the climate crisis is addressed, extreme fires will continue to devastate communities and landscapes.
Edited by: Tamsin Walker