Many, many years ago when I was younger and less inclined to worry about the trivial things in life, I used to love to watch the sky light up with Natures version of fireworks, lightening. To see those brilliant flashes of colour from white to pinks and occasional purplish hues flashing across the sky, hearing the resounding boom of thunder following a short while afterwards, yes, it was rather fun to witness a thunderstorm in summer. But now I am older, hopefully somewhat wiser and although I still thrill at Natures display it is nowadays mingled with a tinge of apprehension and great respect. Since becoming a resident of Eastern Oregon I have seen firsthand the deadly power and devastation left in the wake of a strong dry lightening thunderstorm. Of course the aftermath is the devastating part until the following spring brings a bounty of grass and new life, but right after the fire has touched the land it is hard to see the benefits hiding around the corner.
Fire is a most wonderful thing when contained safely in a wood cookstove or fireplace. A campfire to warm one’s hands over after a day of elk hunting is a true treat. But a wildfire set ablaze by lightening strikes is another matter entirely. Yesterday evening after a day of scorching 106 degree temperatures up here on the hill, I am sure it was even warmer down in Monument and Kimberly on the river, in the distance dark clouds were forming and the booming of thunder could be heard although no flashes of light gave an indication as to how close the actual storm was. A little later on I went back outside to feed the dogs and noticed that distinct smell of smoke in the air. One immediately goes on alert and starts scanning the sky and hills for telltale curls of smoke signally a dreaded fire. Off to the southwest of us I could see smoke in the air, nothing especially close, but close enough to know within a radius of a few miles a fire was on the go. One always prays for a deluge of rain when a storm rolls through at this time of year when we are approaching that tinder dry stage although so many times the moisture eludes us.
Since living out here on our farm we have had our share of brushes with wildfires. We were still living in the end of our barn when the closest one roared through our land, our house was built but we had not as yet moved into it as the interior was an ongoing work in progress although very close to completion. I had decided we would not move in until everything was fully finished as if that ever happens! To me the most profound thing during that particular wildfire experience was when Darrell and I along with the structure firefighters that had been stationed with their engines at our house, sat on upturned plastic buckets at the rear of our yet to be moved into home on what would eventually be our back deck and watched in awe as the fire crowned in the trees over the back ridge of our property. To see that sweeping wall of flame engulf tall pine trees was an incredible sight. At once both a terrible yet beautiful sight in its fierceness. Our grandson Jesse was just a little lad and he had been visiting us when the fire started, he was safely down on the river with dear friend Debbie and her family, our dog was with them, horses all turned safely out with the cattle, our most important papers, guns and such were loaded in the trucks ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Darrell and I had not thought about such mundane things as clothes and other oddments but Debbie and her two daughters, bless their hearts, had come up and loaded up dresser drawers full of clothes and as much other stuff as their vehicles could carry and hauled it all off down the hill to safety at their home on the river.
It was at that moment that a sort of calmness came over Darrell and I. We were definitely not out of the woods as far as danger of losing our place to the fire, it was still sweeping down the hill towards us, but we felt somewhat at peace. We hugged and realized no matter what happened we still had each other. As we all sat on those buckets wondering if it was time to head to the trucks and leave, the fire turned almost ninety degrees in its course and ate its way to the east of our home, sparing us. Debbie came back that night and once again as we all were on the back deck watching the spots of fires around us, feeling like an island in a sea flickering with fire, I felt how truly fortunate I was. Firefighters were away from their families battling a blaze in order to help save people’ homes and land, people they would most likely never see again in their lives, neighbours were helping neighbours, friendships were forged that will last a lifetime. Most of all when in the midst of Nature’s fury it is brought home in one’s heart and soul that there are things in this life worth so much more than a house and belongings… friends, family and most of all to have your dearest by your side.
Yes, fire season is upon us and that lingering little smell of smoke in the air this morning takes my mind back and once again reminds me of what is most important in life as I count my numerous blessing this Sunday morning…
