10/28/2020
The “Story of Life As Told By Water” is also about what happens when there's an absence of water in a place known for its rainfall and fertile forests...when it becomes tinder dry and bursts into flames.
Duncan Berry lives within the site of the recent Echo Mountain wild fire. He watched the skies turn blood red as the fire bore down on his home, located in one of the most beautiful and fertile places on earth…the Cascade Head Biosphere Reserve. Forced to evacuate after two days of hurricane force winds blowing out of the east, he watched the weather reports and the path of the fire from afar, hoping against hope that nature would some how stem this fiery tide or fire crews could gain advantage in their efforts to control the blaze. In the end it was a change in wind direction that moved the fire south, allowing both Cascade Head and his home to be spared. Sadly almost 300 other homes were consumed by this, the most destructive fire on the Oregon Coast in decades. Duncan Berry wrote his poem as a response to dozens of inquiries from concerned friends and family, and to act on promises to himself to make changes after the fire.
For more information on recovery efforts, please follow the links below.
North Lincoln Rebuilds ~ https://www.co.lincoln.or.us/emergenc...
Donate to Support Families ~ https://angelsanonymousinc.com
Wild Fire
by Duncan Berry
the dark mushroom
densely packed pine cone
and mineral hungry earth
they all wait
for it
that jagged bolt from the sky
or careless human hand
birthing
flowers of
intense red and yellow
that spread like
a fiery spring
consuming
everything
it started
as a grey mist
threading through the coast range
to the east
though the day
was bright and blue
my head tilting sideways
at this mystery
then the winds
broke like a dam
out of the distant valley
shrieking overhead
60 miles per hour
hot and bearing
the smell of smoke
delicate flecks of ash
the power flickered
and blinked out
as dark fell
a fitful sleep
and we woke to a
swollen dawn light
illuminating
the remains of
a forest of burnt trees
hanging in the air.
a roaring river of deep
ruby black clouds
surging over us
out to sea
forming elegant eddies
and folds in the sky
every
thing around us
glowing sepia
the dimmed sun
like a blood red eye
winked
in and out
that was when
the trees started to fall
our beloved peach in the garden
alder and sitka
in the forest all around us
thundering to the ground
roots un-prepared for this assault
i stood in this same wind
and closed my eyes
felt
what all creatures
feel
when they are in the path
of evident danger
an odd stillness
just before flight
then
into the house
15 minutes
to grab the essentials
realizing that the future
I had assumed
would always stretch out before me
might end today
all earthly possessions
suddenly
either meaningful
or expendable
one last loving look
at the place on earth
we love
as one does a child
or a mate
then threading our way through
blockades, and flashing lights, and weeping people
making our way north
into the clear
fire eats whatever
the wind tells it to
and so it did
for two days
til it was a ridge line away from our home
and then
a 3 AM shift in the wind
from east to north east
and the searing
driven
all-consuming beast
it moved south of us
south to change other lives
burn other homes
scorch and cleanse
a sudden fire
coming to this land of rain
no longer immune or innocent
yet
I cannot escape
the feeling
that this is just the first
we are feeling of the lash
from a climate
that is punishing us
for our past sins
against this planet
home of ours
returning
as the fire died
i stand in the same spot
where the fierce wind
slammed against my chest
still and quiet now
and I will never be
as I was
never be
as before
intent on harvesting
change
in this newly mineralized
nothing-taken-for-granted
life of mine
everything well-worn
and familiar
prized now
and all those things
i have put off
waited for
they are stirring
and awakened
by this fire
kin
to the mushroom,
pine cone
and patiently waiting earth.
