The southern part of the state is ablaze. I tried to hide from it. I told myself, "Eh - they'll contain it." As it drew closer to the homes of people I know, places I've dined, "Psh. It'll be fine. It can't get to us. We're in the middle of town."
Today, I no longer cling to those indifferent and indulgent beliefs. Wayne told me early today that I should "maybe lie some things aside, just in case." My mind began racing with what is truly important. What do we need should it come down to leaving our home, believing it would soon be burnt to nearly nothing? And where would we go? How far does one go to outrun a fire of this magnitude? Something entirely unthinking, yet blindingly, mercilessly feeding on the very earth?
We came up with a plan - should the fires reach spot X, we'll leave. Go on an impromptu vacation and leave our home to the whims of fate. I've begun categorizing and mentally calculating what will fit into the bed of the truck. The pros and cons of taking both vehicles. What I truly would be heartbroken over leaving behind. Mostly, it's about Jack. And our wedding. I cried, and I text my sister, saying we may have to come stay with her. After that was done, I realized the only thing left was a return to life as we know it...
Wayne, Jack and I went to see the 62nd Army Band Brass Quintet play a Concert in the Park tonight... what struck me most was the contrast. Here we sit, enjoying a nice summer evening, listening to music, enjoying the breeze and the setting sun... yet just 10 miles away firefighters are embroiled in a hellish battle, fighting flames as high as 40 ft, and people are leaving everything behind, fleeing a wildfire that seems almost alive in its greed to consume...
I'm definitely stressed, a little scared, emotional... and resolutely getting to a point of certainty and calm. We will do what needs to be done. I'm praying for all the people who have already had to evacuate, for the firefighters, and for an end to the insanity.
