Fire On The Ridge

I don’t know if they wear capes or have embossed letters across their chests, but I DO know this – real heros can fly.

Cal Fire pilots are like rodeo clowns in the sky; skirting flames, skimming over tree lined terrian, and dodging smoke so thick it blankets the sky with an opaque quilt of grays.

Each pass of their well manuevered air attack held the line of flames from jumping across the river, while we, standing next to our friend’s home, held onto the hope that the winds would not change in our direction.

We had gone up to Gold Run last Saturday afternoon when the call came to look out the window. Instead of clear blue sky, a thick menicing plume announced that the fire was close. Really close.

This is when community comes together. Men weilding chainsaws cut down small trees and cleared manzanita brush, friends helped pack up important documents and family heirlooms, photos were gathered and whisked away to trailers and cars, ready to be hauled out of harm’s way in a moment’s notice.

People stared at the horizon as the changing gray sky continued to boil upward. The planes continued to soar overhead. All we could do was wait, watch, and pray.

The huge party that had been planned for a newlywed couple turned into a memorable day for an entirely different reason. While many were not able to attend due to limited access, they were still surounded by friends, family, and the knowledge that what matters most isn’t something that can be burned by the fiercest of fires.

A  good reminder to us all.

 

 “Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my shield; my heart trusts in Him and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.”         pslams 28:6-7