Strange days

The last few days have felt rather strange, and my mind is bouncing around, oddly moved by images and sounds around me. Is it missing Dad? Is it the unusually hot weather? Is it the apocalyptic fire burning to the west, threatening neighborhoods in the city?

Not sure what it is; regardless, I find myself worn out but having trouble resting as images and feelings well up in me and then subside into the background. Here are a few of the things that are pulling at my heartstrings...

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For the last 4 days there has been smoke rising from the very nearby mountains - a wildfire that you might have heard about on the news. It is stunning, striking to see these billowing pillars of smoke rising, at night to see the flames erupt like incendiary bombs, to know that there are hundreds of men and women dressed in heavy, heat-protective gear, simmering in the blistering heat we've had for over a week. They toil in 16 hour shifts, coming off the front lines to eat and rest. I can imagine them quietly cheering on their comrades in smoke-roughened voices. Meanwhile, we sit in the comfort of our homes and watch the news, complaining about the heat, holding cold drinks, under the turning of fans. They fight for our neighborhoods closest to the mountains.

Tim and I just last weekend took a long drive through the area of what was known as the Hayman Fire - a wildfire that burned 138,114 acres from June 8 - July 18, 2002. The days of that fire seemed to go on and on. We got tired of hearing about it, we wearied of the news updates, but it sat in the back of our minds, knowing all those men and women were working so hard, knowing that the face of those familiar mountains would be altered for the remainder of our lives.

But there's good news from these fires, too, albeit small comfort. The hills that were so violently bereft of their beautiful pine forests in conflagration are just a few years later covered with small, but densely gathered aspen trees that in just a few more years will be amazing forests. And in time, the pines will return, and in a 100 years they will once crowd out the aspens. Meanwhile, the damage done is healing. The baby pines are springing up. The wildlife is returning. The wildflowers are creeping back onto the hillsides.

That will happen in Waldo Canyon, too. Meanwhile, we watch the flames and wait. It is surreal. At times it is downright creepy. And friends who live on the far western side of town are on pins and needles listening for reported shifts in the wind and evacuation orders. A strange time.

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I've been listening to a lot of Foo Fighters music (a rock 'n' roll band, for those of you over 40) ;-). I love the passion with which these guys play. I love the mix of love, anger, joy in their music. I love knowing a little bit of where they've come from and the journey they've been on. Take a listen to this song if you're interested. (This YouTube video is from a live performance - please forgive the bad language; skip the first 1:20 and you'll miss most of it...)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=CC9knDTlc-Y

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And every time I lie down to rest, memories of my dad are filling my head. I remember what his hands felt like. I remember the soft, thick hair on his arms. I remember his voice. I remember how loved by him I felt. I remember his laugh. I remember. And then tears fill my eyes, my breathing becomes ragged, and Egg complains at the interruption in his sleep.

It was 2 years last week since Dad died, so no wonder these memories are flooding in. No wonder my heart is seeking music that makes me feel, that expresses the joy, love, frustration, anger, sadness, emptiness that these memories bring. No wonder.

Strange days, indeed.