The year of 2012 ended in a devastating affair when blazing fires raced through the Overstrand causing destruction and chaos in its wake. Just a day after Christmas the fire spread at an alarming rate, spurring hundreds of volunteers, two fire departments and dozens home owners into action to protect what they could. Major contributions were also delivered by the Working on Fire teams and helicopters(Cape Nature), the Overberg District Municipality and the Fire Associations (farmers) on the other side of the mountain, etc.

For days the brave men fought an exhausting battle to control the dancing flames that leapt with ease onto the dry fynbos cloaking the countryside. An overwhelming blanket of dark clouds rose up from the luminous haze and settled on Walker Bay. The air was stifled and warm, stinging ones eyes and left one feeling somewhat suffocated and alarmed. The battle raged on as hotels, restaurants and all potential businesses donated what food and blankets they could to the fire-fighters that fought endlessly to keep the fires at bay.

The latest damage caused by the fires were said to have caused environmental devastation. Over two thousand hectares of fynbos have been burnt, sever damage to buildings, including one that was burnt down entirely and a section of the R43 between Hermanus and Stanford have been affected. Traffic was forced to detour as flames consumed the Tar road. Vicious wind conditions and the mountainous territory made it difficult to maintain the scorching flames from spreading even further.

The fire tore though the vegetation and the electrical line between the two towns causing a cut in the electricity in the vicinity. Power disruptions were the least of frantic citizens worry as the fire which had been put out on three occasions managed to flare up again. Some distraught home owners were asked to evacuate their houses and salvage what belongings they could. Due to the admirable strength and bravery of all involved the evacuated homes were luckily secured with no sever damage inflicted on the buildings.

I was curious to see one of the burnt regions up and personal, and decided without delay to visit an area just on the outskirts of Voelklip. Upon visiting Maanskynbaai I could not help but be amazed at the coal black landscape that greeted me. The sight was more chilling than I imagined.

The barren surface was covered in black soot, as blackened branches portrayed an artistic image of bony fingers reaching from the scorched soil to the heavens. Once-neglected sheds lay burnt in heaps of rubble as the last shards of bricks remain as the only evidence that houses once stood there. Shattered glass reflected the sunlight onto the ground, while iron milk jugs, matters springs, window frames and crushed bottles peered out of the soil. Crushed tiles lay nestled into the loam barely visible beneath the heaps of dead branches clinging mercilessly to the ground. The lush green vegetation on the opposite bank of the lagoon was in stark contrast to the colourless vista along the R43. Tall trees stood rooted to the edge of the placid lagoon, their bark pitch black from the burning flames, still stood proudly as if obstinate to be moved. There was no movement of animals, no sign of birds only the remains of a seared tortoise shell that this landscape was once filled in abundance with wildlife. Walking further into the desolate terrain I noticed small green shoots desperately trying to peek through the burnt soil. Even further along the miraculous sight of much larger green shoots wrapped around blackened branches greeted me. The site was spectacular.

A sign that from the blackened ashes new life is starting to grow. I spun around in circles and saw buds pushing through in all direction, ready to once again blanket the abandoned countryside. Over a small rise I was mesmerized at a brilliantly bright yellow and red shoot that stood dotting the otherwise ashen terrain. As straight as a needle the flowery vegetation stood proudly as if ignorant of the unsightly area laying around it. The new plant life in all its majesty was a strong symbol of  new beginnings and hope for a brighter tomorrow. The blackened earth appears as a symbol of the past, a symbol of our community loving and caring for each other and starting fresh leaving the past failures and moving on just as mother-nature does.

Standing in the seemingly lifeless area illustrated a sense of renewal, highlighting the sense that we are poised on the threshold of a new year which is spread out in front of us and there in the buds of the new flowers pushing through and the sunbirds, sugarbirds and other feathered friends of the fynbos returning to their homes we all can rise like a phoenix from the ashes.