The heat that drove people to madness, crime and violence in Victoria last week got worse last Saturday. And with the scorching heat - the hottest single day this state has experienced since the 1930s - came fire. 

As I write, the death toll from the weekend fires is 130. That may or may not seem like a lot of people but it's not a death to be wished on anyone. And, sadly, no-one thinks this is the final body count. The fires are still burning, strong winds are carrying embers across roads, the ground is dry as paper from years of drought, and despite emergency teams working day and night, the flames seem unquenchable.

People's stories are starting to come through: parents whose children have died in the fire; children whose mother or father - or both - have died; horses, cattle and dogs left to burn; doctors treating horrific burns, some on people's feet because they had no time to even put on shoes; bodies found in cars that burst alight; and so many stories of people unaccounted for...

A woman at my son's school tells me she spoke with a firefighter friend last night, to check in on him during a moment of recovery. He was tired, shocked, teary. Whenever the fire changed direction, his team would drive their trucks on hot roads to towns that had been inaccessible to see if there was anyone to help (the fire is a great, loud, furious monster of a thing but it can move fast and whip around to devastate new areas in a matter of minutes). They would go to the local football fields, which is where people are told to gather during emergency. Time after time they found a huddle of bodies in the middle of the field - men, women and children dead from the heat and the smoke. 

 Our Prime Minister said the people of Victoria had been visited by the fires of hell, and it does feel like that. I have no idea why farmers who are already struggling, small country schools, livestock, pets or even the land itself deserves such an unwelcome visitor. I do know, though, having heard stories of bravery, stoicism and selflessness throughout the past few days, that an Australian is a good person to have by your side when things get really tough. I'm not at all nationalistic but I do feel that this punishing landscape has engendered in the people some type of grit mixed with kindness. 

I heard a man interviewed on the radio this afternoon who'd watched his home burn down while he'd been fighting fires on a nearby hill. His family was safely elsewhere but no-one could get to his home or his horse or his dog before the fire engulfed them. He'd come down to the local school where rescue workers were offering safe haven, food and water to his family and many others when he was asked what he was going to do now that he had nothing. He scoffed and said he had a beating heart so what he was going to do was go back out there and put the fire out. I'm not sure he had heard on the radio just how many fires they are, or just how large they are, but I suspect he would've gone back out there anyway. I hope he's safe.