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The signs of bushfire activity were all too obvious. 

As we parked about a hundred metres off the bitumen, it wasn't hard to imagine motorists zooming past and ruefully shaking their heads at the sight of such devastation.

On the ground, as you looked, there was more and more to discover. 

Nothing very big, mind you. 

As you hurtled along the highway, it'd be easy to miss them, but scattered across the burnt landscape patches of orchids and wildflowers were quite beautiful.

Fortunately, Madam didn't stray far from the track. 

A move into the country would have revealed more and more items that demanded attention. 

We could have spent hours wandering further and further afield, but, with the prospect of lunchtime looming on the horizon, we returned to the blacktop and resumed the northward trajectory.

That venture set the tone for the next couple of days. 

As we hit what looked like a promising patch of roadside terrain, we'd slow down and scan the verges as we moved along much more slowly than would have been the case in other circumstances. 

Where there was space to pull over, Madam would get her five or ten photographic minutes. 

Hughesy sat patiently, as expected but sans soundtrack since Karen was plugged into the car's cigarette lighter.

Dongara might not be far up the road, but with the late start and delays along the way it was close to lunchtime when we arrived. 


© Ian Hughes 2017