Twelve years ago today on 25 February 2001, the house that I had designed and helped build burned to the ground in an arson lit bushfire. The loss was total. And I mean everything.
One of the first friends on the scene was Robyn Eckersley (pictured in the background waving) who, along with two other friends Lorne Kriwoken and Nel Smit enclosed me with hugs and tears, joyful that I did not go up in smoke along with the house.
Robyn’s partner, Peter Christoff, stands beside a small grove of she-oaks that were planted out in 1992 after I purchased Windgrove with the insurance money.
So far 3,600 trees have been put across the land.
Instead of lamenting my loss back in 1991, today I celebrate the growing beauty of these new trees with a walking recitation of the following (slightly altered) poem from an unknown author:
“Where the morning sees the shadows Of the she-oak grove, there was nothing eleven years ago. Where the dry wind sowed the salted cliff top We brought water, planted seedlings, now the she-oaks grow.”
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