Two types of storms have smashed through the tiny NSW Far South Coast town of Cobargo in the past week. One was the massive Badga Forest Road firestorm on New Year's Eve, which swept down through the outlying hills with two long, devouring firefronts in the early hours of the morning.
The blaze destroyed dozens of buildings in the historic village and claimed the lives of Patrick Salway, 29, and his 63-year-old father Robert.
The other was political, in which Prime Minister Scott Morrison was the controversial centrepiece. Mr Morrison's whistle-stop visit to the town, a media entourage in tow, for a facile photo opportunity while emotions still ran high and raw among the locals - many of whom had lost everything - made international news.
For a brief time, Cobargo became the face of the South Coast community's outrage, grief and anger.
A firefighter who'd reportedly lost his home was filmed refusing to shake Mr Morrison's hand.
Another person reportedly said Mr Morrison he should be "ashamed of himself" and said he had "left the country to burn".
The spurning of the Prime Minister as he attempted to engage with the locals became a lightning rod for public opinion.
For local residents, it has meant grappling with the emotional fallout of not just one heart-rending incident, but another not of their choosing.
As a result, there's a wariness here unusual among open and usually generous country folk who now wonder what agenda outsiders, particularly media, bring to their close-knit community.
It has also meant that locals are looking to each other - not the government - for help, as they start on the slow road to recovery.
The Cobargo Relief Centre - where Mr Morrison was famously heckled by locals - is unofficial.
The man running the centre, Alfredo La Caprara, said it began began spontaneously.
He is the site manager for the annual Cobargo Folk Festival and when he had just 30 minutes' warning of the firestorm to hit his home, headed straight to the showground.
His organisational expertise and logistics skills became invaluable in the week that followed as those displaced from his community trickled in and made it their temporary home.
"I know this whole showground really, because I've spent weeks here managing the place over the years when the festival is on," he said.
"I knew this was a good place to head, a good safe haven. There's lots of open space here, and a lot of the locals knew the same thing."
"So when I arrived, there was a lot of people here sheltering as the embers and ash and the madness of the firestorm swirled all around us.
"We felt we had found somewhere safe while the world around us was going up. I had the keys to the place so we bunkered down and made a cup of tea."
Then more people arrived, and more again. What was a gathering became a small community of evacuees.
The relief centre is now about 300 strong, still proudly and defiantly unofficial, but with its own free food store, toilets and showers, power and internet connection.
The Red Cross is here, a first aid centre, and lots of horses contentedly chewing on biscuits of supplied hay.
"People have been amazing in supporting us. The Bendigo Bank provided a semi-trailer of food and goods just a day or so afterward," Mr La Caprara said.
And it keeps coming in. Almost too much now, it seems. People are struggling to cope with and sort out the overwhelming amount of foodstuffs, clothing and items from toothpaste to talcum powder, tinned tuna and a huge stockpile of bottled water.
The message now is that donations should be monetary, so that cash can be ploughed back into the community.
A generator is keeping the showground supplied while power companies work at restoring mains to the town. Local MP Andrew Constance made that a priority after his first visit.
Nearby Bermagui is likely to have power restored by Wednesday. Cobargo is likely to take longer.
People are loosely, but not officially, organised into teams at the relief centre, some managing the food store, others in the commercial kitchen, some sorting the waste disposal.
"Make sure you tell everyone this is not an evacuation centre, it's a relief centre," Mr La Caprara said.
"This is Cobargo pulling together. There's no official titles or bureaucracy. It's just a community looking after its own."
Peter Harvey, a chaplain from Wellington who has come into the relief centre to support his wife Carole who has been here for five days, brings fresh eyes to what's happening at showground.
"There's a huge amount of resilience here. It's just amazing. These are people who have lost everything in just minutes," he said.
"But I'm also worried about when this stoicism, this amazing resilience, will start to unravel. The emotional fallout from this is still is to come, and we need to be ready to support people when it does."