02/06/2026
As we approach six months since the Longwood bushfires, I've been reflecting on conversations I've had with many people across our community over recent weeks.
For many, the initial shock has faded. The emergency response has long since wound down, the media cameras have moved on, visitors aren't dropping in as often and the phone calls/ texts have become less frequent.
Recovery services continue to support people, although many are now seeing different faces as case managers take leave, contracts finish and programs evolve and enter our community.
Yet for many people, the reality of recovery is only now starting to sink in.
Across our district there are still thousands of kilometres of fencing to repair or replace, homes to rebuild, insurance claims to navigate and countless trees still needing to be cleaned up and removed.
Some people are finally seeing progress with pods, caravans, tiny homes and temporary accommodation, while others are still waiting for answers, permits, confirmations, payouts, clean-up or complex issues to resolve.
Businesses are trying to recover income while balancing clean-up and rebuilding. Families are juggling work, finances and everyday life alongside the enormous task of putting properties and lives back together.
Winter is arriving, firewood isn't always easy to access, and for many people the to-do list still feels overwhelming.
What I've noticed lately is that while much of the physical recovery remains visible, there is another side of recovery that is harder to see.
The frustration.
The exhaustion.
The anxiety.
The feeling of being overwhelmed.
Sometimes even a layer of anger.
Not necessarily directed at anyone, but simply at the situation itself.
Sometimes it turns inward.
Why am I so frustrated?
Why am I wanting to be so short with people?
Why can't I just get on with it?
I had my own reminder of this recently.
Something relatively small upset me and I found myself in tears for most of the day. Looking back, it wasn't really about that one thing at all. It was simply nearly six months of concern for community, stress, uncertainty, decision-making, loss, responsibility and exhaustion finally finding a way out.
It reminded me that I needed to be a little kinder to myself.
And perhaps I simply needed a good cry.
And that's okay.
Trauma and disaster recovery specialists often talk about the six-month mark as a significant phase of recovery. The adrenaline that carried people through the early weeks has long gone and the reality of what lies ahead becomes clearer.
Energy levels can dip, patience can wear thin and progress can feel slower than expected.
One phrase I've heard repeatedly is that recovery feels like it is moving at a "snail's pace". Then suddenly something changes, decisions are made, approvals or materials arrive or rebuilding actually begins, and everything speeds up at once.
That can be overwhelming too.
Sometimes it feels like we can't find a steady pace between waiting and rushing.
If that sounds familiar, please know you are not alone.
There is no right way to recover.
Some people are moving forward quickly.
Others are taking things one day at a time.
Some are feeling hopeful.
Others are still feeling exhausted and wondering why recovery feels like two steps forward and one step back.
Many are experiencing all of those emotions in the same week, sometimes on the same day, and occasionally within the same hour.
Recovery is not a straight line.
It is messy, complicated and deeply personal.
Six months may sound like a long time to those outside the fire zone, but for many affected families it still feels like yesterday.
As winter arrives and the colder weather settles across our region, I think it is important that we extend a little extra kindness to ourselves and to those around us.
🌱 Check in on your neighbours.
🌱 Reach out to a friend.
🌱 Accept help when it is offered.
🌱 Ask for help when you need it.
And remember that healing, rebuilding and recovery all take time.
At Fawcett Hall, we continue to see incredible strength, resilience and community spirit.
We also see people having tough days.
Both things can be true at the same time.
Sometimes the bravest thing we do in recovery is simply get through the day and start again tomorrow.
Wherever you are on your recovery journey today, please know that your feelings are valid, your experiences matter, and it is okay not to be okay every day.
🌿 One step at a time.
Sam - Pres (personal reflection)
