Hayley Smith heard a knock on the door as the smoke swirled around her Warri home, just outside Braidwood, during the height of the Black Summer bushfires.
It was a helicopter pilot who said succinctly: "I'm here to evacuate you".
Alone in her home - her husband was out with fire crews on a local RFS tanker - surrounded by 100 acres of tinder-dry grassland and bush, Ms Smith politely refused, much to pilot's surprise.
"I told him I was okay, I knew what to do, and I was safe," she said.
"We'd blocked up the gutters and filled them with water, we had 1000 litres and the pump was on the back of the tractor ready to go.
"I couldn't leave the horses.
"The neighbour's place just across from us was under threat but I felt ready for it, if it came.
"It was one of those take-a-deep-breath decisions but if you know, well ... you know.
"If I had felt at all uncertain, I would have left."
The arrival soon of the first El Nino summer in three years - not yet officially declared, but imminent - has many who live on rural properties outside the ACT concerned.
Those on the land are watching the next Big Dry roll out, and know a hot, dry summer is ahead. And with it, the bushfire threat.
Nine months before the Black Summer, Hayley Smith had joined the local Mulloon RFS brigade and been involved in training exercises. It turned out to be a wise, self-empowering decision.
She figured she would be the last person to "hold a hose", to quote the infamous Scott Morrison epithet.
But as the drought years continued in the lead-up to that fateful 2019-20 summer, she and her accountant husband Rodney decided to be part of the local brigade, just in case.
"I'm not a joiner, you see, it's not really my thing," she said. "And I'd heard that some of the RFS brigades were a bit of a boys' club.
"But as it turned out, that wasn't the case at all. There were quite a few women there at the fire shed, and there's even more now."
Her encounter with the Black Summer bushfires had a curious twist.
As the big plumes of smoke began to roll over Mt Palerang from the Tallaganda National Park to the south-west of their property, as a precaution she loaded all her horses except for a mare and foal into a friend's semi-trailer, and relocated them to the Bungendore showground.
This was the build-up to the North Black Range fire which took nearly two weeks to contain.
She stayed there for around 10 days, looked after her horses and watched the weather, while keeping in contact with neighbours. Bushfire smoke continued to swirl around the area.
"As anyone knows who has quite a few horses, you can't just leave at the drop of a hat, it takes quite a bit of time," she said.
"So I thought it best to get them [the horses] out to somewhere safe while I could.
"But after a time the fires then seemed to back off, so I waited for a while just to be safe - or so I thought - and brought them home again."
Quiescent for a few days thereafter, the North Black Range bushfire reactivated with the arrival of early December's hot, dry fierce winds, sweeping out of the national park toward Braidwood and racing toward her home.
Her back-up plan was to put all the horses into their fenced sand arena as the fire approached and if the situation became dire, to open all the farm gates, take off any halters and let them run for safety.
"That's the final option, I guess," she said
"But you dread that happening, just letting them go."
Red hot embers began falling, igniting numerous grass fires around Warri, and the area was soon buzzing with activity.
Helicopters were on rapid shuffle with water buckets and locals in their 4WDs and mini-tankers were hunting down every fresh ignition point.
A local Mulloon fire tanker team, colloquially known as the "mosquitoes", were later recognised for their enormous effort in snuffing outbreak after outbreak, for hour upon hour.
She put on her RFS protective clothing, turned down the evacuation offer and prepared for what may arrive. The neighbour's house was saved but the fire marched on.
On December 10, she tweeted: "Feeling a bit alone @ the moment. Thank God for the helicopter pilots".
The ordeal passed but those Black Summer lessons were well learned.
And just to provide an extra reminder, the smell of the bushfire smoke lingered on for months throughout the house.
Like many who live on rural properties just outside the ACT, Ms Smith is waiting for some light rain to get out on the tractor - nicknamed "Kurt Kubota" - to slash the fast-drying grass, even though the horses enjoy any fresh pick.
"We've had some very easy summers in the past few years but there's no doubt the weather is changing," she said.
"Everything has started to dry out much earlier.
"Keeping the grass down is so important; at least that gives you a chance."
