It's the way it is. Might as well get used to it. Some days the smoke lifts and gives a bit of relief while other days start out with this heaviness and mid-day the sky appears to give hope that the fires will someday end.
This past weekend my "fine figure of a man", our friend Suzie and I decided that Saturday night was an evening for adventure. We loaded the dogs and headed for the local hamburger joint. We didn't stay long as we headed "down river" to see what we could see. The road was long, the conversation good but we didn't see what we intended to see. Bill was camped on the mountain (a huntin' we will go) with his son and grandson. We had intended to visit for a brief time while fulfilling our need for the high mountain air and dusty roads. Maybe even hoping to get out of the smoke.
What we saw were multiple groups of hunter's camps and a fire just a couple of ridges over. We explored unknown roads, chatted with a random hunter and survey'd the scene. All in all, we arrived home a little tired and ready to be out of the pickup. Jessie, our old blue healer, can attest to that as she headed for the brush upon arrival. Poor thing, we hadn't even let her out of the pickup once.
The smoke never left us while we were on our journey. It didn't stop us but perhaps it slowed our senses while giving us a constant reminder that things were just not quite right.
I couldn't help but remember a conversation I had with a friend of a friend after our loss. She described her visit as having finally found the courage to come and see me. As we sat, chatted and talked of our mutual loved one, I described my grieving as a forest fire.
"It is like a very hot fire has come through the forest -- devastating everything in its way.
I can smell the hot, burning smoke in all the aftermath.
The trees, charred beyond recognition, are stubs of coal."
That was a moment of realization that our loss was so big and so deep. Realizing that the char was vast and not likely to recover all that quickly. Being realistic in the knowing.
In the very next breath, to this sweet young lady, I began to speak of the hope of the growth that eventually springs forth after a fire of great magnitude. The sprout of grass or small tree, the deer finding its way back to the blackened forest in search of new life. The birds of the sky circling around again, hoping the bugs are once again present. Life. It was a moment when life was on the forefront and the knowing was different. All in the same breath.
So as the news of the fires changes daily and interest wanes, there is hope that life will again spring forth in the charred forests of our beautiful world. But as we wait, it is vital that joy be found in the little blessings of life. God bless the firefighters and keep them safe.
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