When the Hill Turned Orange

Some days splinter in two

On the early afternoon of Saturday 6 December 2025, we were heading to my daughter’s birthday party at Gosford Aquasplash when we saw the smoke rising above the ridge. A bushfire had broken out in Koolewong - our suburb of Tascott directly adjacent. With no imminent danger and the roads still open, we carried on. It felt like the right call.

Smoke columns rising

Across the Water

Life carries on whilst people’s homes are burning

Australian Summer

By the time we were at Aquasplash, the smoke column had grown. I watched it from the water’s edge while the kids played — darker now, climbing higher, bending in the heat. At some point the arithmetic shifted. I said my goodbyes, left the party behind, and headed home — concerned for our dogs.

Smoke on the Water

The roads into Tascott were closed, so I went in on foot from Point Clare — just me and the smoke and the particular dread of not knowing what you’re walking home to. The dogs were fine, sensing something was up, very happy to see me.

“Elvis” in the skies

Street Level

The family came home later in the afternoon and by evening we drove to Koolewong to see what remained. Residents stood at roadsides in small groups, some watching, some just standing. Firefighters moved with urgency but without panic — the particular calm of people trained for exactly this. More than 250 of them had been on scene at the peak, with aircraft running repeat water drops through the haze. Sixteen homes were lost. You could feel the scale of it in the silence between the sirens.

Smouldering Aftermath

After Dark

By 6pm the light had gone strange — gold turning red turning nothing. Everyone was waiting for rain that never came. A final frame near the end of the night: flashing lights, smoke still in the air, the crews still at it. The fire wasn’t done. Neither were they.

Blackened Hillside