11 Seconds

This is 11 seconds.

Now imagine your a volunteer for the local Country Fire Authority (CFA), but also a farmer.

All year you and your neighbours work hard tending to the land.

You pray for rain at the right time of year. You pray for sunshine at the right time of the year. And you pray like hell that there will be something come harvest time to make it worth while pulling the harvester out of the shed.

You pray that there will not only be enough grain harvested to cover the costs of putting the crop in and tending to it day after day, but also that there will be enough to help feed the world.

Your business hours are usually…..

wait….

who are you kidding - there are no ‘business hours’.

You often rise with or before the sun and go to bed well after the moon has lit the night, with only the stars to guide you home. For those that run livestock, your sleep is often interrupted by new arrivals or administering important medications - 8 hours sleep, yeah right!

The prices you pay for inputs are out of your control. Buyers dictate to you how much they will pay for what you have to sell, yet they will ensure that they add their markups and profit margins before passing it onto the consumer, and still you get the blame for ‘groceries being so expensive’.

You are in the midst of harvest. Aiming to stay sane throughout this stupid time. You have delays due to rain one week and forced shut downs for total fire bans the next, if your lucky you might get through a few days without a breakdown and then your CFA volunteer pager goes off.

It’s all tools down without hesitation. Headers, chaser Bins, Trucks, all parked up.  Rest on a total fire ban day - forget it!

In the back of your farm ute is your CFA gear. Your distinctive yellow overalls and fire fighting helmet. It is within reach at all times. The water trailer is hitched. Time is of the essences and as quick as you can, you head to the fire location - after all you look out for each other out here.

The smoke cloud in front of you is thick and black, billowing skyward. In all honesty you probably saw the smoke before your pager dinged, and you hoped it was further away.

This road you could drive with your eyes closed, after all you have been farming this land all your life. On one side of the road, mallee scrub.  On the other - not only all this year’s hard work ready for harvesting, but your families legacy and your families future.

Thankfully, for now, the fire is in the scrub, but one stray ember or the wind turning and all that could change. As volunteers all you can do is wait, watch and plan to prepare for the worst. But what to prepare for and where to start?

Fires are unpredictable and with this waiting also comes overthinking.

If only you had harvested these paddocks first. You consider if it is cool enough to get the header in here now, harvest what you can or cut a break and get the machinery out before the threat creeps across the road. But the loss of a machine could be worse than the loss of a crop.  You look around and see your fellow townsfolk, volunteers from neighbouring towns and towns further afield and you think that just maybe it might be all ok.

Fire bombers fly overhead, coming in low, dropping water and retardant and circling out. Parks come in with their vehicles and tankers. Bull dozers start attacking the scrub, their intention to slow the burn and yet, still, all you can do is wait.

Farmland surrounds the scrub on all sides. If its not your farm, then its your neighbours, you are all in the same boat - waiting.

You wonder if all those late nights and early mornings are worth it. If the costs of inputs and machinery are worth it. If the driving back and forth on narrow, almost single lane crumbling roads are worth it. If fighting government legislation and bullying tactics are worth it, if being hours from anywhere is all worth the while.

After all, more often than not, those making the decisions in the city have forgotten about you. There is no public transport funding being thrown out your way. No road improvement funding building better roads for your children’s school buses to safely travel on, or god forbid for your grain trucks to safely pass each other by as you head to and from grain receival sites.

But it is all worth it. It is, because there is community.

It is, because out here the birds sing louder in the crisp morning air and the sunsets go on for hours. The laughter of kids at family get togethers carry across the paddocks, just like the barking of dogs and the crowing of Rodney the rooster - even if his damn body clock is way out of whack and he crows multiple times a day.

It is, because school holidays are made for marking lambs being a family event and shearing is never complete without the kids jumping in the wool press and pressing the wool firmly into the corners after a busy day on the boards.

It is, because springs first flush leads to summers golden fields and memories are made in the doing, the believing and the achieving. And all that comes wrapped in a big country hug that engulfs you as soon as you step outside.

So in that 11 seconds, did all this flash before your eyes?

Did your life’s work flash before your eyes.

11 seconds isn’t long. It’s just longer than a bull rider needs for a successful ride. It’s almost four times longer than a netballer is legally allowed to hold possession of the ball in a game and it's just over 1 seconds longer than Usain Bolt needed to run the 100m sprint.

11 seconds may not be long enough to change the world but we can only pray that it may be long enough for those with the power to make decisions to think about what they are doing to our farmers, our graziers, our producers and hopefully, just hopefully, it may help them to realise that change is needed to support our regional areas.

Burnt wheat heads lie up top of the scorched earth.