The Year Summer Burned Up

Like so many communities across the country, our summer plans were interrupted by mother nature. We were halfway through a session of swim lessons when plans were altered by a raging, uncontrollable, wildfire. 

Suddenly, the towels were hung, celebrations were put on hold, and ash, a painful reminder of what was lost, fell from the sky.

Nights were restless as smoke blanketed the town. Every morning we eagerly searched for updates as thousands of acres burned. Firefighters fought all day to keep the flames from reaching us. They returned to fire camp discouraged. More acres burned, low humidity, dry fuel, rugged terrain. Would any break come?

Our lessons at home went from reading, board games, and creative writing, to lessons on the dangers of breathing smokey air, what "ready, set, go" meant, and our plans when we had to leave. As evacuation looked more certain, each kid was given a box to fit their treasures in. I took pictures of everything that would remain. Almost all we owned. For when you're faced with the possibility of losing it all, you learn life is the only thing that really matters.

And while we watched flames turn the night sky red, there were road closures, community fire meetings planned, church meetings canceled, daily rising plumes of smoke, people preparing for loss and praying for rain.

Fortunately, rain came, firefighters started winning the battle, and town is safe from the flames. 

Dangers of flooding and contaminated water still remain.

There's not supposed to be a pond next door.

But we are largely back to living as normally as one can with a beloved mountain scarred. With one big difference: a memorable lesson on what is and what isn't important.