Australian bush turns into fiery beast

Two days ago the small, rural town of Kinglake was gearing up for trucks, cowboy boots and hats as the annual country music festival was due in town.

Today, grief and sadness fill the air of my hometown after a bushfire inferno swept through several nearby towns killing 130 people in Australia's most deadly bushfires.

Just up a windy, tree-lined road lies Kinglake. They won't let us into Kinglake because of the horror we would see - 12 people, that we know of, have been burnt to death there. Many are friends or family of those in the town. This is a close-knit community.

Their charred remains are being picked from the twisted and burnt ruins of houses for the gruesome process of identification, a process being repeated in other devastated towns.

Many of Whittlesea's loved ones are still missing.

A message board, containing post-it notes with handwritten pleas for missing people to contact family and friends, has been erected inside the local community activity centre, which usually acts as a child-care centre for my child and his friends.

On the streets, teary-eyed people wander in disbelief at the savagery of nature, still trying desperately to find out if family members, friends and neighbours survived the blazes.

Occasionally you see a happy ending, with embraces and tears of happiness as a missed friend, family member or neighbour is spotted.

The Whittlesea showground was to be home to hundreds of campers listening to their favourite country singers. Now it's the staging ground for firefighters; the wail of fire sirens filling the air, instead of the twang of country music.

Weary firefighters who have faced off against walls of flames to try and protect friends and strangers are our heroes. Many sleep in their smoke- and soot-stained yellow overalls on the ground before heading back to the deadly firefront. In the distance, you can still see flames flare in the charred hills, which last Saturday glowed bright red as we feared the fiery beast would turn on us with its death and destruction.

Those that survived in Kinglake are being brought dazed and shocked into town in buses and car convoys. Many don't know whether or not they have a home to go back to.

"I don't mind losing my house because I've got my kids," said Rachel Johnson, from Kinglake West, where 20 have died. "I am just worried about all the friends that we can't contact."

People live in Whittlesea and Kinglake and the other small towns dotted in the bushland because of its natural beauty. But they know of the bushfire threat that lies in the thick trees where kangaroos, echidnas, wombats and lyre birds are often seen.

Many have fought fires before and are prepared for fire, but this bushfire was like nothing before. It started as a small blaze on Saturday a long way off, but soaring temperatures and vicious winds fanned its flames at a frightening pace.

A quick wind-change swept it towards the towns of Humevale, Kinglake West, Kinglake, Flowerdale and Strathewen. By evening, Kinglake was caught unawares and surrounded by flames.

"There was no warning. There were no fire trucks and no police telling us to evacuate," said Christine Ogilvie, who lost her house at Upper Plenty.

"All of a sudden the whole place was surrounded in flames and we knew we had to get out, because if we couldn't get through the driveway, we were trapped in the property."

In Victoria, it is common for people to plan to fight fire. They keep tanks of water and sprinklers at their houses, which become safe refuges if the firefront can't be stopped.

"In my naivety, I thought we would be okay. We had a fire plan. We live in a mud brick house and we cleared the area around us. It was just an evil act of nature," said Michele McKenna, who lived in Kinglake West with her husband and two small children.

Michele lost her house, once one of my favourite spots to sit and watch our daughters play in the backyard with the chickens as we sat and looked to the faraway city, framed by a thick wall of gum trees.