Saturday, May 24, 2008


6 a.m. Tuesday morning we awoke to this.

I stood on the deck for a long time. My brain could not register the reality. Oh no. Oh no.

After going about our normal routine for awhile it became apparent. Our forest was on fire.

I ran upstairs and began walking in circles. Disbelief.

What do you take with you when it's time to go forever?
What must stay, never to be seen again?

It was a true test of strength. I grounded and centered and asked the Goddess: Please show me what to do.

I walked to my car. It was packed up for recycling. Calmly I opened the back and threw the contents into the carport.

I went back upstairs and began to pack.

What do you take with you knowing it will be all that you have?
What must stay, never to be yours again?

My spinning wheel, and remaining fiber. Four skeins of sock yarn.
My tarot decks, Willendorf goddess, athame, journals, collage deck and collage journals.
The big box of pictures, thankfully organized into albums a few months back.
The birth certificates, marriage license, teaching credential, receipts for the appliances.
All my jewelry.
One third of my clothes.
One third of my toiletries.

Simplify, simplify.

I stuffed it all in the car. Grabbed the video camera and started recording the contents of our house. Commentating as tears ran fast: Here's our furniture. Here are the antiques. Here's our TV. Here's the living room, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the bath. Here's my clawfoot tub where our daughter was born.

Nd hitched up the trailer. Forty minutes of loading animals, chasing chickens and stuffing them into a cage. Grab a bail of hay. Go back in for the camera, the iPod, a radio, a flashlight.

What will go?
What must stay?

It was time. Our neighbor joined us in the caravan down the mountain. When could we return? What would we find?

Simplify, simplify. Pray and pray some more. Ground. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.


Blogger LauraJ said...

my heart. in my throat. i cannot breathe. i want to cry for you and your family. big big hugs. love coming all the way from canada. prayers that your home is spared.

2:51 PM  
Anonymous Carrie K said...

Oh no, you're in that? I'm praying for you and your neighbors.

8:15 PM  
Blogger zoe krylova said...

how terrifying and heartbreaking. i do hope that your beautiful home was spared, and all the precious things inside it. sending blessings your way.

3:45 PM  
Blogger smileymamaT said...

That was last Tuesday morning? You posted on Saturday, or at least that's what it appears... are you home now? Was your house spared, your neighbors? Are you OK, are you still away from home?
Thinking of you.

6:19 PM  
Blogger Crik said...

i cannot even begin to imagine what this would be like.
thinking of you

6:31 AM  
Blogger gwendomama said...

i feel your fear. seriously.
we packed it all up and are now unpacking.

10:41 AM  
Anonymous Kris Noel said...

Saints be praised! Your house is intact. I send love and positve energy to those who were not as blessed. Disasters of this sort certainly put ones perspectives in order. WOW!

4:40 PM  
Anonymous Mojag said...

Ormsby neighbor here. We met you folks and enjoyed Winter Solstice Storytelling with you and yours at this home in December of 07. (not sure if you are the same folks). I was curious if you were still having a Solstice Storytelling event this year.
I love your blog and had to confirm by checking archives of the fire to see that we're neighbors. Yup. What a crazy day. It was on Thursday the fire broke out (my birthday was the day before) We woke up at 6am to the rumble of copters and warm orange smokey sky. By 7 we self evacuated and by 9 we knew we lost against it, looking down from Mt. Madonna road. We still enjoy the property and camp often up there, we even had a garden this year and getting it watered was an adventure in itself, but the neighborhood is gone. We haven't rebuilt, nor are we rebuilding anytime soon. From up here, your redwoods look lovely and we are pleased your home was untouched. Blessings.

1:12 PM  

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