Worst of days
When, late on Saturday night, I first heard the initial death toll in the Victorian wildfires I assumed there must be some dreadful mistake.
Surely the figure applied to heat rather than fire-related deaths, the strokes, heart attacks and other conditions which tend to claim the lives of the aged during heatwaves of distressing temperatures and intensity.
But no: the figure of 14 deaths, as it stood then, was the human cost of the blazes.
This is a nation well used to the destructive powers of wildfires, the scourge of southern summers. But in recent years they have been measured in the number of hectares of bushland destroyed or the number of properties, not the number of lives. Fourteen deaths was staggering.
But with each hour, the number of dead has risen. As I write, the wildfires have become the worst in the nation's history.
The testimony of survivors is terrifying. They tell of fire fronts moving through small country towns, like Kinglake and Marysville, in a matter of minutes. Of towering flames many stories high. Of victims walking out of the flames with skin hanging off their bodies, asking neighbours and friends to look after their surviving child.
When wildfires advance, people face a horrifying choice.
Leave early, and risk losing their property. Or stay and defend your property and risk losing your life. Some of the most awful stories concern the dead bodies found in cars which had been over-run by flames as the people inside tried to escape.
Once again, it's believed arsonists have been at work - or firebugs as they are called here. In the Gippsland region of Victoria the police said that an arsonist reignited a fire that the firefighters had successfully put out.
So the south-east corner of Australia has confronted the destructive power of nature, and the twisted minds of a few suspected arsonists. This truly has been the most awful of days.
I'm 
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