I step outside and pause at the bitter taste in the back of my throat. The wind is strong and chaotic this morning. I wish for rain. In the desert, we always wish for some rain but today I want it to rain on the entire state.
Don’t just sprinkle, come down hard. I know the ground is too thirsty to drink but the burning forests aren’t. I don’t care what havoc you will wreak on traffic.
In the dryness, we have developed some bad habits. We forget to apply the breaks gently and early instead of slamming them on at the last minute. We forget to slow down.
I recall… After the forests had burned, a few years back, water gained speed.
In it’s humility, and by its nature, seeking lower ground, water can’t be stopped. And, in putting out one fire, another, of a different kind is kindled with loss.
I want to be careful what I wish for. I surrender.
To help and to heal. Thy will be done.
And the wind has been raging all morning. I’m scared to negotiate anything with the wind. It’s unpredictable.
My sense of direction is distorted and I notice that the dog is pausing uncertain of her next step. She shakes her head trying to clear it. So I will just wish for the right wind whatever that may be.
Thy will be done.
I call my neighbor to check on her. She wishes for masks for her horses. She regrets leaving the windows open last night. We talk about the wind and the smoke and even if there’s nothing I can do for her I remind her that she has my cell phone number should she need anything.
I’m pensive but I have not lost perspective. I realize that we can only taste the fires. I realize that they are still quite a distance away. But fire is as close as an absent minded smoker discarding their cigarette on their evening walk.
I try to swallow my fear, but I choke on the bitter taste at the back of my throat.