Smoke is hanging over the Blue Mountains like a foul mist, insinuating its way into every cranny. Even though all our windows were shut, I awoke this morning to the sharp hint of smoke in the air. Looking outside, it was difficult to make out the roadway and beyond, our neighbour's house appeared to be floating on a thin cloud.

It is no news, of course, that we are ringed by fires at many points of the compass. To the north, a massive fire at Gosper's Mountain squats like a giant toad just north of the Bell's Line of Road. To the south, a huge conflagration at Green Wattle Creek threatens havoc. Given the right conditions of heat and wind, both of these fires could go rogue through the vulnerable ridge-line of townships that comprise the bulk of the Blue Mountains population.

There is no getting away from it. When you live in a national park, then the risks and the benefits are symbiotic.

Anyway, X marks our approximate location here in Hazelbrook. For better or worse, here we go.