In my mind's eye, I can still see the old Marysville, still smell the crisp mountain air tinged with woodsmoke, and wander through the rooms of the old Ranch. A sound, a smell, a feel to the air takes me back to before that horrible day.
In the aftermath there was so much hope and determination, and so much restoration of faith in humanity as we helped our own. And just as the bush recovers, so will all those little towns, covering the burned, blackened memories with new growth.
Nothing will be the same again.. but it will be good again, in time.
We will NEVER forget Black Saturday... and we WILL return.
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