River of Logs

I haven't written in a while because we've been BUSY. The short, heavy rain we had last week (about 3/4 inch in 20 minutes) led to quite a flood in our post-wildfire property.

I knew it was coming down hard, but when I looked out the back window, I was still shocked. There was a river of black dirt 10-20 feet wide crashing down the hillside in a usually dry stream bed.

By then, water was pouring over the road.

What I didn't know then, was that it was washing down over 100 logs- heavy green timber cut in 6 foot lengths by the neighbor after the burn. (up to 24 inch diameter)

They all got stockpiled in our pond- threatening to wash out the driveway.

So, guess who got to play on a tractor all week?  Unfortunately, we figure the flood carried about 600 cubic meters of ash, sand and soil to our creek bed, so it's been hard to make a dent in it. But, Paul was able to move the logs and clear a gully, so water can at least get through and not take out the road or driveway next time it rains.

Anybody got a dump truck? Or need some nice, black soil? It's free! ;)

The Alchemy of Rain

We've had some great rains in the last month. The Wednesday before last, heavy rain turned our little creeks into dark chocolate caldrens. When they fury dissipated, we were left with whole new ash-sand bars and a ripped-out phone line.

But the rain precipitated (ha!) some other things, too.

rock slides (good thing I'm not wearing stilettos today!)

Salamanders! OK, I know these guys are hard to see...but they are about a foot long, green and black, and pretty happy to have a pond this year, I think! This is the first time I've seen them- probably because on a "normal" year, the pond is warmer and full of algae by the time they are romping around.

 ...and LOTS of flowers!

Black holes and Miracle Plants (Wildfire Part 4)

Here's how the burn area looks today:

 Holes created form burn-out tree roots made walking in the snow interesting...
some of them are big!

pioneer crocus flower - taking the lead in forest restoration

the meadows are coming back fast

bluebells also taking the lead 

Raging Wall of Fire (Wildfire part 3)

There was no stopping it. Driven by 60 mile-an-hour gusts, the wall of fire consumed everything in its path. Almost.

We had been evacuated and living with friends for 3 weeks (generous friends!) when we got the news. I could tell by Paul's tone of voice... after three weeks of moving in all directions around our house, the wildfire had finally devoured our home. The firefighters wisely fled to get out of the way of the inferno. They told our neighbor that the fire was so hot and so fast, no houses could possibly be left up there.

We found out two days later they were wrong. 

Another 10 days of waiting and we returned home. It had, indeed, swarmed everywhere on our property. It burned several outbuildings to the ground. It kissed the house on all sides. A birdhouse two feet outside the living room window was reduced to a pile of ash. Scorch marks, like war tattoos, adorned the legs of our deck and nearby trees. But the house was fine- not even smoke damage.

A Fire "tornado": shovel handle (above) burned, along with the rocks, but the cardboard two feet away is untouched! 

Incidentally- there really IS such a thing as a fire tornado!

What Would You Take? (Wildfire, Part 2)

 (photo courtesy Jeff Stahla)

We had only minutes to decide. A wildfire was headed our way. We had time enough to take whatever would fit in our two cars. So, what to take? The answer surprised me.

Some things were obvious: my harp, music-in-progress notes, computer, favorite photos, toothbrush and a change of clothes. Then other things...the chain saw, in case trees fall over the road and we can't get in/out; my small file cabinet, which has important papers (like proof of house insurance!); our passports (I'm a travel addict).

The next day, we were allowed to return, briefly, that day to get our truck. Naturally, we thought, "We'll load it up!"

Here's where it got interesting: We got to the house, looked at each other and said, "What do you want to take?"  Walking around the house, we couldn't come up with much. I love my books and plants, but, they are all replaceable. Ditto for almost everything else. We realized there was nothing else that we cared about all that much. In fact, it occurred to me that it would almost be a relief to NOT have most of our stuff. (And we're not talking about a lot of stuff....our house is just over 1,000 square feet.)

Einstein once said something like,"Each of my possessions is like a stone in my pocket, weighing me down."  I feel inclined to agree- and it was interesting to have such a visceral experience of it.

We didn't get long to ponder this.  As we were loading a box of paintings (irreplaceable-painted by friends and family), a wall of smoke engulfed us. Time to go. Having no way to know where the fire was, we had to assume it was close. So, we left with an almost-empty truck.

It's true that, without insurance, we would have been urgently motivated to take necessities - cooking pots, blankets, clothes, and so on. And I don't for a moment dismiss the deep pain and loss suffered by many people who did lose everything in that fire. My prayers go to them daily. I just found it interesting to observe that the idea of less stuff was so liberating to me.

What do you all think? If you had an hour to pack your car, what would you take?

Bang, Bang, Lights Out (Wildfire, part 1)

The explosion of sound hit me with such force I thought the windows of the house might shatter. I sat bolt-upright in bed, my heart leaping out of my chest. I had been sound asleep when the lightening strike connected, but its bellow would wake the dead. The lights that were on in the next room - my partner was still up - went black. When I realized what happened, my first thought was..."Oh, no, I hope our (newly upgraded) solar system didn't just get fried."

Little did I know, this was the LEAST of what was to be fried.

That lightening storm ignited the spark that ultimately caused over 130 square miles of Colorado to burn.

Three days later, our neighbor, a veteran fire fighter, stopped by. He pointed to the fluffy cloud beyond the hill. "You see that cloud?" Yeah, we saw it. "It's not a cloud, it's smoke from a fire. I'm packing up my car and getting out of here."

As luck would have it, we were having a new propane cooking stove delivered that day. Right after the neighbor left, I called them to suggest they postpone our delivery. No answer. Minutes later, the delivery guys came walking up the road.

"Hi. Sorry we're late. Our truck broke down just a short way down your road."

You mean in the section that's one-lane? Where there's a rock wall on one side and trees on the other and only room for one car?

"Yeah."

Seriously bad timing. The next hour was spent helping the guys move the truck so we and the neighbors weren't blocked in. They brought the new stove up, via our truck, and installed it. In the two hours those guys waited for their replacement truck to show up, we became buddies. Since it was already evening, we threw sausages and potatoes on the grill for everybody and sat in our 'patio' furniture, to watch that cloud that was not a cloud.

"Sure is quiet up here." One of the guys commented.

Little did we know it was the quiet before the storm....