I went for a walk up the ridge in the foggy drizzle, and turned around only a short way up, where the bad burn begins. But at that turning point something I saw took my breath away! It was this bright yellow green carpet emerging from the wet black soot that has covered the dormant forest floor for seventeen months now. Beads of water hang on the tips of the moss fronds, precious and glistening, growing up from some magical deep rooted system, and truly a miracle of time and season! Just as this new moss is sprouting ever so blithely and succulent from a colorless landscape, so I want to be. I am so happy today to release incessant worries about what is not right, for thinking it only constantly reaffirms and makes it persist in being. I am prepared for weightlessness, living for now, happy, all focus on productivity of the present, and hyper sensitivity of natures regrowth, because the greatest inspiration and design element from nature is right before me.
Category: Recovering From Wildfire
Hillwalker, and an anniversary.
Today is the one-year anniversary of the historic Northern California Firestorm which burned through two counties and thousands of homes, including our own. Such an anniversary of loss seems to be a time to test resilience, rising above hardship, and moving beyond the grief toward healing happier times. As I walk on the mountain, I feel the loss, and regrowth in such an overwhelming way.
This Autumn comes as a relief, now I can focus on what is ahead, and what is new, fresh, and positive. Life is short, its over in a blink, and we have every ability to control our attitude. I’ve learned one very important thing through the experience of this last year, and that is the only thing we can truly own is our attitude, and the accomplishments of our mind. The rest is just material & prone to ashes.
♣ ♣ ♣
Introducing the Hillwalker sweater duo…
(and photographed with my walking stick!)
I have now finished both the pullover and the cardigan,
and that means Hillwalker is now two patterns for one download !
Waning Summer
Its the last days of summer, finally. I thought I’d never get through them.
The Autumn Equinox is near, and I thought I’d enjoy a nice afternoon walk up the ridge and take some photos of the landscape in the waning summer.
Wild peas continuing to bloom unusually late…
As I got higher up the ridge where the bad burn is,
I notice so many sprouted trees, as this baby knob cone pine, about 8 inches tall …
Sprouted right beneath the scorched parent tree, full of pine cones….
In a blink it will be the Autumnal Equinox , only four days! Knowing I am near to being in a far better place mentally with the anniversary of the wildfire so soon to pass, I am so very eager to be grateful again and excited about life’s good things.
Knitting on a bridge…
Jeff has built a bridge from logs he salvaged from the loggers’ waste, and he hoisted them cross across the small gully which heads over to the garden in now what I am calling “the path of least resistance” with planks nailed to the top from old boards, it is an excellent & rustic installment to the woods and I am super pleased with it! I helped only minimally, as I did the original “wedding bridge” which was burned in the wildfire. A new bridge & my sooty knitting trail has of this morning been improved inexpressibly for the better! Emma inspected & approved…
There eventually will be builders at work making their presence felt in my quiet seclusion, and this lovely little bridge continues me my private trail out to the garden without having to walk up the road to the house where the chaos will be going on, and down to the garden from there. Planning ahead brilliantly! A short-cut to the garden, a bridge to bliss, a bridge across difficult terrain, so metaphorical. The garden is life, and inspires me in its quiet little way with bees bobbing about, fluttering butterflies, and small little birds bathing in various bowls and cups sitting about, as well as a fat wild dove flocks bombing about on occasion… tall seedy foxgloves still standing through the perpetual heat. I chase away the drought with my series of old-timey sprinklers, sitting beside them in the mist as I soak in the moist air and knit. It is a very rustic & secluded spot of calm, where one is really fairly hidden away.
I am trying to settle into a productive life of a busy recluse, and I have been thinking about things. Post trauma disorder has changed things a bit. I will very likely never get over that day of wildfire, for at that time forward is etched into the rhythm of how I experience life, and its injury as much a part of me now as anything could be. That blink of time when I hurriedly drove off in my car with Emma, my mandolin, recordings of my music compositions, a small box of photos, and a few clothes, my computer, and a tote full of my needles & favorite yarns to keep me busy in the days following — while instantly regretting other things which I forgot, so much from my life. Those things which seemed to define me were suddenly gone, especially those rooms, spaces which were integral to my happiness.
But let me tell you how I’ve been thinking about things, about feeling glad and comfortable with realizing that the only real thing I can ever own, and the only thing which defines me, are my accomplishments. So that is why I strive to live the busy life of a hermit in newly built hermitage, and the rooms will be far less cluttered and intriguingly sparse, so that I can build on my accomplishments. My family, and short list of close friends will allow me this reclusive life. I would like to add that I appreciate all of my pen friends from around the globe with whom I have kept company and shared my days in a more secluded way, I am ever so immensely grateful to my knitting fraternity!
♥ ♥ ♥
Out Walking
This morning we got out earlier than we have been.
I am hiking solo now, but sometimes I’ll drive up the road a little ways and give Emma a ride, then she waits in the car in a nice shady spot.
She still looks so healthy, but she does not like to walk very far. Isn’t she just beautiful?
Today I had my Nikon and took some photos of regrowth in the landscape. New shoots emerging prolifically from burned trees everywhere!
The wildfire burned so much foliage and shrubs on the ridge that I’ve been finding old dump sites and old roads long abandoned too, but mostly, trees are making a come-back , and the flowers bloomed as ever before…
On the way back to our Tiny House, stopping where our house “was”. Do you recognize the landscape beyond that I so often photographed from our deck?
Many trees I am finding , are still alive with green crowns, so all is not lost. In fact, the big black oak which shaded our house and most of the deck in the heat of the summer afternoon, was so badly burned we thought no chance, but now it has green sprouting out of ash-grey trunk! The wildfire brings so much perspective about potential of regeneration, that I must witness this as I walk through the seasons. I’ve put all my focus on the hill before me, and knitting as I go.
Life is good.
