Ah, the nervous system. I am thankful for the systems that keep us alive – yet this morning, mine has worn me out a bit. All Western dwellers, and certainly us Coloradans are on high alert this fire season. As of yesterday, 7 fires were burning across the state including the horrific Black Forest fire near Colorado Springs. What seemed like a wet spring has turned into a dry summer with conditions perfect for fires starting and burning out of control. Three weeks ago we were evacuated from our Evergreen home due to the Blue Bell fire that burned up the road for us. Most likely we were never in danger, however this year the authorities will be extra cautious as the deaths by fire count last year was unacceptable. We appreciate the precautions and went through that evacuation relatively smoothly.#limegulchfire Yesterday, in the middle of a lovely day spent with my brother and nephew, an email popped up from my Kuehster Road neighbors about a fire way too close for comfort to that already fire ravaged area. I felt the shock hit my system and as I carried my computer in to show David, my words turned to mumbles, and then to deep sobs. Last weekend, we settled in to that property even further by putting up a precious yurt with the help of dear friends. Planning to spend more time there this summer, our compound includes our trailer “Flame”, a finished shipping container made into a workshop for David, and now the yurt on it’s lovely perch. The couple days we spent enjoying our new dwelling were the most precious since our fire last year. The ground cover is returning, young aspen groves are popping up, the wildflowers are going crazy. What was once burned out and stark is being taken over by budding life. Still uncertain about rebuilding there, the yurt is our way to spend more time and try it on.
20 June, 2013 /
As another wildfire rages out of control near Fort Collins, my heart breaks for those who lost homes and particularly those who lost loved ones.  At 36,930 acres and zero percent containment, this fire is a nasty one.  An ‘act of God’ sparked this blaze in the form of a random lightning bolt.  Extreme dryness coupled with high winds is the perfect breeding ground for fire.  I didn’t sleep well, thoughts of these poor folks filling my mind, knowing some of what they are experiencing, only imagining more.  Tossing and turning throughout the night, I thought of what I want to say to them and those who love them.  I wish I could shield them from the inevitable roller coaster ride that results from life chewing us up and spitting us out.   Here is what I want to say:
12 June, 2012 /
New goals should be clearly set and worked toward, as this is the beginning of a nine-year cycle. It is best not to dwell on the past at this time. This will be fairly easy for you to do because most of the problems and disappointments of the past will tend to disappear, leaving the way open for these new challenges. This is a great time; use it to its full advantage! It holds the promise of an exciting new adventure, with life taking on new challenges that pave the way for the next cycle of nine years in your life. This is a time to clarify your goals and to act on them. Hard work may be necessary to get a new venture moving.
From a reading, describing the end of 2011 and what’s to come… Hmmmm.   An exciting new adventure.  Yes, I can see that.  New challenges, check!  Clarifying my goals.  Yes.  Hard work.  Fer shure.
Most of the problems and disappointments from the past have disappeared - in a fiery maelstrom.  So, yes, it's true, I am not dwelling on thosethings.  Don’t even remember what they were.  And, most days, I am doing “well”.  And then there are those moments…  You know “those” moments?  The ones that take you to your knees, that leave you unsure if you will crack open on the spot and not “crack open” in the seemingly good way but in the way where your psyche may actually fold in on itself and you may just die right there?  Those moments.  I danced on the verge of a few of these moments yesterday. 
22 May, 2012 /
After two days of clouds, snow, rain and mist, the sun is shining brightly today.  We have had June weather in March, and now March weather in May.  Seems Mother Nature cannot make up her mind.  This is the joy of Colorado living.
Yesterday, my neighbors and I took our third trip to the Capitol.  This time to testify in front of a Senate committee about the future of what has now become two bills to assist victims of the fire.  After pressure from the press (primarily Channel 7), the Governor, Attorney General and legislators from both sides of the aisle came together in a press conference to declare their desire to work together.  Our testimonies last week in front of the house were very different than last night in front of the senate.  Something was shifting in big government and we could sense it in the room.  Hardened lawmakers were softening up and actually wiping away tears as they listened to our words.  The senators that sponsored the bill both got choked up as they presented their case.  All of us were more emotional too.  Yes we are tired and yes it’s hard to tell the story over and over but it seemed we were even rawer and tears flowed from most of us as we shared in front of this strangely sympathetic group. 
08 May, 2012 /
Yesterday, around 30 neighbors and families attended a hearing at the Capitol on proposed House Bill 32 152, which would raise caps for compensation for fire victims.  Representative Cheri Gerou (a mountain area resident) co-sponsored the bill with Representative Bob Gardner.
I haven’t been to the Capital since college.  The building is beautiful and Gerou and Gardner chose to have the hearing held in the old Supreme Court chambers, an elegant vaulted room with towering stain glass images of original Colorado settlers.  The room was perfect as we discussed our fine state and what it stood for: the Wild West tamed for habitation infused with the spirit of independence formed by a community of like-minded people.
The words “by the people for the people” emerge from the fog of my formative years.  I googled this to recall the source: Lincoln’s famous quote from the Gettysburg address. “…this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
01 May, 2012 /
Bad dream early this morning.  We were living in a police state where some group had taken over everything.  On the surface it looked ok, but some of us knew the truth.  Curfews were in place and people were mysteriously disappearing.  I had been forewarned and somehow David and I were not together.  He was back in the town – and I was on the edge of the woods on the outside of the boundary lines.  Communication was sketchy.  Cell phones were working intermittently and we didn’t want to have our ringers to alert anyone to our location.  I kept trying to reach David and left him partial messages each time we were cut off.  The group I was with was heading out soon.  I was begging David to come quickly.  He kept saying he would leave in 9 minutes but each time I reached him he hadn’t left yet.  Suddenly my group was gone without telling me and I was alone.  Franticly, I searched for David, sneaking back into town obscuring my head and face in a hat and mask. 
26 April, 2012 /
Yes, it was a good idea to take a walk with my husband and dogs this morning, however I missed my morning writing.  It is the best way to start the day for me.  By the time this many hours in the day have passed, I have moved through many spaces.  I like the purity of the morning.  I write what’s there to write.  I write what jumps out from the day before.  I write what I need to say – and what I need to have heard.  I am most fresh in the morning.  Now at 3:55pm, I am far from fresh.  I have had laughter, many tears, and some screaming today.
The talented Amy Johnson photographed me at the site today.  I wanted grittier pictures for my professional persona.  Pictures that capture the emerging me – whoever that will be.  Some of the pictures we took today may not make ‘sense’ like me hysterically laughing at my friend Lainie’s jokes while resting my arm on torched and scared wood.  The juxtaposition of the blue Colorado sky, snow on the mountains in the distance, green pines covering hilltops (not mine hilltops, however), blackened concrete, twisted metal and me in a purple dress.  I snarled at the camera quite a lot – even shot it a double fisted bird which felt quite good.  (None directed at Amy, and she knew that).  For many reasons, Lainie was the perfect assistant. 
18 April, 2012 /
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.  Walt Whitman
At some point I will write about the metaphor of fire. I will write about the transformation that occurred and is occurring. I will write about who I became in the process and the multitude of gifts that enhanced my character.  It is still too early for that. 
Of course I can see the gifts of having community.  Yesterday we wrapped up a second full (and productive) day of site clean up. We were again supported by a crew full of friends as well as those I had never met.  All performing great acts of service as they sifted through ash and rubble, avoided stepping on the various hazards – nails, sharp edges of metal, piles of glass…  Quite a few times during the day, I imagined doing this alone – and stopped dead in my tracks.  No way.  Our community is carrying us.  That is for sure. 
15 April, 2012 /
I wonder when I will stop saying, “I can’t believe it”.  When will the new “normal” seem like normal? There will always be a line of demarcation: life before the fire and life after the fire.  I realize that the disbelief is a protective mechanism – probably somewhere between bargaining and denial.  Last night, I engaged in the “I can’t believe it” a little further than I have as of yet.  I allowed myself to really not believe it.  I imagined my house still standing, my life still on the track that it was, my oasis patiently waiting for my return.  Just for a moment I indulged.  Just for a moment, I wanted to forget, or return to normal.  I wanted to go back. 
The craving of “home” is strong and makes me weep right now.  That deep bone level craving, I have been keeping at bay.  Home.  My want for home, my need for home, my longing for home.  Today, David is driving to New Mexico with the amazing Chris Meehan to pick up our “new” 1967 Airstream trailer.  Home is on the way! 
12 April, 2012 /
Have I talked about the irony of the weather on my birthday?  On April 2nd, it drizzled then turned to snow, when a mere week earlier that would have prevented the fire.  Today it is overcast again.  We are socked in, in a cloud.  We mountain folk need the moisture  – and our parched, scorched land needs it desperately.  We also are hoping for rain to clean the sooty stains that mar the earth, rocks and turn the barren landscape into a filthy mess.  Uninhabitable is what it looks like right now.  So, yes, even though the moisture came 1 week too late, yes please to the rain gods.
Items spun through my mind again this morning and late last night.  I remember a metal raven sculpture with cute fat feet, a handmade jewelry box full of my silver bracelets – a collection I didn’t wear but had for eons.  In that box, were a few other treasures including a voice recording of my first mentor, Susan Hansen who died way too early for many of us.  Now, I will only hear her voice in my head. 
11 April, 2012 /