Smoky Skies

I lean out of my bedroom window, camera in hand.

In front of me, the sun sets through the smoke. Behind me, my daughter whines at the closed door while my son tugs at my leg demanding attention.

I ignore them and steadily snap away, catching the slow descent of the sun, keeping it frozen in time.

I can taste the smoke from the bushfires on my tongue. It’s only faint, but there nonetheless. We’re safe here, the nearest fire is 40km away and heading in a different direction.

Slowly the sun disappears behind the hill, leaving the sky streaked purple and red.