I dreamed I was walking through a young forest not quite regrown from the last fire. In my dream the song of a mountain chickadee was cut short by the rising wail of an air raid siren. It screamed in slow echoes through the forest. The sound was straight out of World War II and evoked an impending disaster. When the siren finally faded the forest was silent for a moment then a pack of wolves began to howl.
9/16 Sprague Fire is 15,995 acres
A dusting of snow has finally improved conditions but smoke still hangs around the house so I drove up the canyon. I wanted to feel something wild besides smoke. Is it possible to separate the wildness that heals us from the wildness that kills us?
I hiked away from the highway in search of something wild. From a high point I could see hundreds of miles of wild and civilized world mixing around me. The sound of a train drifted up to me. A cold wind blew wildly up from a trailless canyon. The wildest thing in my vision, was the smoldering fire. It was naturally caused and burned through old growth forests and there was nothing humans could do, but now wild storms of snow are coming.