When yr driving North on the 5 and the phone keeps blowing up with alarms evacuate now high winds wild fire and you just want to get home wherever that is the thought of home being North more North than here then the sky becomes black in an unnatural way so black you can't poke a hole in it not like the night sky black with winking stars but black a heavy thick black rolling over the hills but you can't see the hills only the black with edges of red and orange but not the sun no you realize the red is the fire the wild fire pushing this way and that and yr going as fast as you can yr going 80 85 who's gonna stop you anyway yr wearing a mask the smoke will choke you will choke yr fellow travelers all going North like the deer and rabbits as the fire brushes them along until they too are consumed you don't want to be consumed not today you call yr sister so she can be there for your panic your animal panic this is how we die wind and fire and we see the fire hopping the freeway raining ash and embers we're doing our best to outrun the fire built with twigs and living trees and grass and creatures like us who want to live who want to live who want to
I came back from S Oregon on Tuesday. We were camping along a river and we woke up at 2 AM because there was smoke in the air. We stood around trying to decide what to do, should we stay, should we leave. We decided to leave and were on the road by 4 AM. Maya and her friends went south and I went north, right into the beast.
It was the scariest car ride I've ever had. When I got past the second fire, I stopped for gas and looked across at the freeway entrance and cops were blocking it so they were closing the freeway. I got out in time but so many didn't.
Today the smoke in the air is unbreathable. The humming birds are still at the feeders. Micha still has a newborn foster baby in her home. The dog is still dirty.
Fire is an uncompromising fucker. All I can do today is cry. As my friend Clark said in a text "poor sweet everything".
6 comments:
It's as if you are fleeing from the arms of hell. Oh, please be watchful, be careful, dear Beth.
I'm glad you're safe and made it out alive. It's horrific.
I'm so sorry. It is truly catastrophic. I'm sending you love.
This is so hard to read and I am relieved you are home. May you stay safe my friend.
What a relief to know you are home again after that terrifying experience. Your tears are sacred. "Poor sweet everything." Sending love.
Oh god I’m so glad you’re home. The forest here is dark and it’s just past noon. No bird song or flight. Not even the industrious wasps are out. Stay safe my friend.
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