Published in the Real93543.org's
The Other Side of the Mountain; The Bobcat Fire Remembered
During the Bobcat Fire, I was living in Minneapolis. I grew up near the Devil's Punchbowl and Juniper Hills, and called the region home or over 30 years. I followed the fire on Inciweb and watched from 2000 miles away on the map as it crept northward from Azusa, over the crest of the San Gabriels, across Highway 2, and then down the north slope. That's when it began engulfing the places where my favorite memories were made and still live.
Memories layer themselves into your being and form a tapestry, a background of your life. To have the very loom where that background was woven, thread by thread, erased by fire is quite painful, to say the least. I thought sharing memories, not just of the fire but of my life, might have a cathartic effect for me. More importantly, though, I hope that sharing my memories might offer some small help for others who may have lost much, much more than I did. And, sadly but probably inescapably, I hope that sharing my memories now might provide some small solace for those who will lose memories and more in other times and other places.
Oh, all I see turns to brown
As the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand
As I scan this wasted land
Trying to find where I've been
---
by Robert Plant & Jimmy Page
Led Zeppelin, "Kashmir"
Lightning
Up in the hills a little above the desert, we see the desert stretch north as far as the eye can see. Stars peek from behind towering thunderheads and the moon shines white on the cloud tops. Warm, moist air rolls over us, the smell of desert rain heavy in the air. Rips of thunder echo against the mountains behind us, doubling the effect. As we watch, the storm moves across the desert below as if on spider legs of lightning. Close your eyes after a flash of spider leg and it’s seared into your retinas for a while until you see the next one. Then the visual starts over again. Thunderstorms and summer in the desert.
Water
Mountains jut above us, crags outlined against a crystal clear blue sky. Water flows over rounded boulders in the creek. A cold, wet hiss splashes down from snows above to the desert below. Sun catches in drops that dance above each rock, rolling in the turmoil. A tune of chaos cascading down upon us. Lay in the creek and let the water flow over you, baptizing you in the glory of the summer. Sit on the ground, butt in the dirt, guitar in hand, back against a tree. Serenade the beauty that plays back its cascading song and blows through the pines above, more beautiful than anything you can strum.
Love
When I first spotted her, she was a small, ephemeral point up the road in the distance. The point materialized from nothing but the desert’s expanse sweeping up into the mountains – dazzling, almost blinding white sand along the roadside. Everything about her materialized slowly. Languorously, because that is probably the only word that can adequately describe materialization in the desert. There was no sudden moment of recognition, no sudden impact of surprise. Simply a steady dawning of her person, her presence in mine. It was like we’d traveled lightyears through time and space, but now we could hear the other’s voice, touch the other’s body. Time yielded substance. We embraced and kissed. I opened my eyes and saw hers closed, head upturned, the line of her neck, long hair curling down, the sun reflected in each strand. She wrapped a leg around my knees and brought me closer. White gravel beneath our feet, the sun shining on us as the desert turned below.
Wind
I rode my pony, named Misty, to the west, directly into the wind. She bowed her head and I squinted, holding my hands inside my coat sleeves. Dust blew in our faces as the freezing winter wind whipped over us across the desert. I saw a soda can rolling and bouncing over the sand toward us. I hopped down from Misty's back and caught the can. I turned it over and looked at how the sand had erased parts of the paint from the label. Sandblasting. I looked back to the west, the wind roaring in my face. I filled the can with sand and laid it on the ground. I braced it with large rocks in a "U" shape, with the arms facing west, into the wind. Misty and I returned to the site two weeks later. The can was gone and sand was blown up against the rocks that had braced it. With my fingers, I dug down an inch, and then another inch. I finally touched the can. I stood up, turned around, scratched Misty's ears, and rode away. The wind roared its icy breath over the desert floor. Dust blew around us.
Bobcat Fire
Fire is a gas. It’s lighter than air. It billows and wafts like a dancer. A hot dancer, gyrating, leaping and pirouetting, searing the floor. Fire is like the sun, the immense weightlessness of heat radiating out and bearing down. Shedding light in the darkness, it’s like a soul burning with inner, burning strength. Fire's heavy weightlessness can also change landscapes and destroy the places where memories are made. It can burn through lives and homes, memories and hope.
Fire’s brutal weightlessness can flatten lives, leaving only smoke behind. Contained, it’s a tool. Uncontrolled, fire can replace heaven with hell in the blink of an eye, leaving only ash in its wake. Fire can take things unseen, but that are found everywhere, and destroy them: Lightning seen from hills. Mountains and creeks above the desert. Love under the sun. Wind, philosophy, and things seen and unseen are all vulnerable to fire when it rolls across the landscape.
It rolls like thunder, flashes like lightning.
It flows like water.
It appears from nothing, like love.
It roars like wind.
And now...
Everything's turned to brown
As the sun burns down
And fills my eyes with tears
As I scan this wasted land
Trying to remember where I belong
Fire Information
INCIDENT INFORMATION
(https://inciweb.nwcg.gov/incident/7152/)
Start Date: 9/06/2020
Location: Angeles National Forest, Azusa, CA
Size: 115,796 acres
Percent Containment: 92%
Cause: Under Investigation
ASSIGNED RESOURCES:
Total Personnel: 240
Injuries: 6
DAMAGE ACCOUNT:
Structures Threatened: 6,000
Residences: Damaged 28, Destroyed 87
Other Structures: Damaged 19, Destroyed 83
Gallery
Below is a gallery of images of the fire. You can click on any of the pictures and it will open up to a large version and an automatic slideshow of these large images will begin. You can pause the slideshow by clicking/tapping on the "Stop Slideshow" label in the lower-left corner. To re-start the slideshow, simply click one of the arrows in the lower-right corner.
