It’s 2am on the morning of 18 March 2009. As Devil’s Peak continues to burn, a small group of city bowl residents gather at the Gardens reservoir to stare in horror and disbelief at the lava-like trails of flame visible between billowing clouds of dense black smoke. A car pulls up. A woman and her daughter, evacuated form their Vredehoek home; get out with dogs in tow.

The woman is clearly distraught. A moment later another vehicle arrives, followed by a scooter. The interior light goes on and we can see several cats in the car. The driver, a woman named Birgid and her son (on the scooter) Nils, tell us they’ve been evacuated from the townhouses adjacent to Disa Park, at the foot of Devil’s Peak. Burning, wind-borne embers have travelled as far down as the Fairview complex on Ludlow Street, they say.

We huddle together against the cold wind, periodically calling friends to check on them or replying to text messages from concerned relatives. Ironically, from here, we can hear the sound of water running into the reservoir - water that, if it were daylight, could be used by the choppers to douse the flames. All else is sirens and the white noise of the relentless wind.

There is nothing we can do. And for these women, waiting and watching is the only option tonight. Only dawn will answer the frightened question in their eyes. Only then will they know whether their homes and belongings have been spared. Until then, there is nothing for it but to watch from the relative safety of the car, and pray that the wind dies down.