Thirty-six hours before I took the photos below I shared a blog at work which I had written about our beautiful city and the journey we have been on these past six years of rebuilding our city and ourselves. At that time the fire was burning in the Port Hills near work but none of us would have imaged what was to come. If you had told me that thirty-six hours later I would be standing outside my mum’s house staring up at a giant firewall unsure of what the coming night would hold I would have told you that you were mad. But you would have been right.
Last night I stood on a footpath in Hoon Hay staring up at the Port Hills as the night began to creep in. Slowly the sky turned dark and stars began appearing above us. All the while the fire continued to make its way the hill towards us and the orange glow began to burn even brighter. It was a frightening sight yet eerily mesmerising. We were filled with questions that only our imaginations were able to provide us with answers to. For at night it is hard to judge distances, heights and speeds of flame. Would we be evacuated in during the night? What would greet us when we got up in the morning? When would the disasters in February stop? Only time would tell.
It was around 10pm we watched a tower of flames loom near Sugarloaf. They almost seemed to be licking the tower, reaching far into the sky. It was around 10pm that my heart finally broke. I cried for all the moments I had been walking in the Port Hills but never stopped to truly appreciate its beauty. I cried for all the times I was going to go for a walk up there but decided not to. I cried in frustration at how much our city has been through these past seven years. I cried for how much I had fallen in love with the Port Hills after all the devastating earthquakes, clutching onto the notion that the earthquakes could not shake away the true beauty of this city, true beauty that survived the earthquakes. But this was no earthquake. It was a consuming fire, relentless and unforgiving.
I also cried because I knew my God was there with us, that He had not abandoned us or forsaken us. That He had a plan and He would use this terrible situation for something glorious. Although my heart it is still breaking and I feel so terribly sad, I wait with expectancy for what is to come knowing that God has us.
As I lay in bed last night I found myself in the bedroom I slept in on the night of 22nd February 2011, another restless night. If you had told me then that just one week shy of the sixth anniversary I would be staring up at the Port Hills on fire I would have told you no way and I hope you are wrong. It is a blessing we don’t know what is to come for we would surely be overwhelmed and want to give up.
Kia Kaha Christchurch
You are still beautiful
Last night I stood on a footpath in Hoon Hay staring up at the Port Hills as the night began to creep in. Slowly the sky turned dark and stars began appearing above us. All the while the fire continued to make its way the hill towards us and the orange glow began to burn even brighter. It was a frightening sight yet eerily mesmerising. We were filled with questions that only our imaginations were able to provide us with answers to. For at night it is hard to judge distances, heights and speeds of flame. Would we be evacuated in during the night? What would greet us when we got up in the morning? When would the disasters in February stop? Only time would tell.
It was around 10pm we watched a tower of flames loom near Sugarloaf. They almost seemed to be licking the tower, reaching far into the sky. It was around 10pm that my heart finally broke. I cried for all the moments I had been walking in the Port Hills but never stopped to truly appreciate its beauty. I cried for all the times I was going to go for a walk up there but decided not to. I cried in frustration at how much our city has been through these past seven years. I cried for how much I had fallen in love with the Port Hills after all the devastating earthquakes, clutching onto the notion that the earthquakes could not shake away the true beauty of this city, true beauty that survived the earthquakes. But this was no earthquake. It was a consuming fire, relentless and unforgiving.
I also cried because I knew my God was there with us, that He had not abandoned us or forsaken us. That He had a plan and He would use this terrible situation for something glorious. Although my heart it is still breaking and I feel so terribly sad, I wait with expectancy for what is to come knowing that God has us.
As I lay in bed last night I found myself in the bedroom I slept in on the night of 22nd February 2011, another restless night. If you had told me then that just one week shy of the sixth anniversary I would be staring up at the Port Hills on fire I would have told you no way and I hope you are wrong. It is a blessing we don’t know what is to come for we would surely be overwhelmed and want to give up.
Kia Kaha Christchurch
You are still beautiful