Exactly two weeks ago, almost to the minute, Al and I sat at a high mountain lake in the Eagle Cap Wilderness staring into the campfire that accompanies this blog. A tough four mile, 3000 foot pack into Maxwell Lake had left us both weary and exhilarated. And hungry.
After a welcome dinner, we settled into the growing twilight and contemplated the still water, lake ringing cliffs and - the fire. Grateful for its warmth, fascinated by its dance and pulled deeply into its trance, the fire both centered and reflected our experience.
But now, back home and away from the controlled campfire that masqueraded as a friend; fire is scorching lands, forest and buildings within only a few miles of my home. It is fire come into its own, fire uncontrolled by man, fire dictating its own terms.
This fire scratches the throat, waters the eyes, frightens the children forced to flee. In the midst of its destruction are sown the seeds of rebirth, but it is impossible to look that far into the future. Impossible to see around, through or beyond the fact of the flames.
The knowledge of this dual nature resides deep inside my psyche; recognized in its likeness to man.
