I once again find myself living 6 miles from the edge of a major wild fire.
Yesterday the fire spread 8 miles is a few hours.
6 miles is too close.
6 miles is scary.
There is nothing between me and the edge of the fire but hundreds of acres of trees. Trees stressed by years of drought.
This is the photo I took yesterday at 3:30 just a couple hours after the fire started.
This is the photo I took when I picked my son up from his colleg class. Just 3 hours later.
Of course when disaster strikes close to home you make plans for evacuation. Photos and family history are packed. Actually, they have been packed since the Waldo Canyon fire last year. We didn't get enough snow or rain this last year to warrent unpacking. My art work is at the studio in Colorado Springs. We have talked about what things are the most important to bring. We have a plan.
A plan doesn't help with the helpless feeling as you watch homes being turned to ashes in minutes.
I went down to my basement studio to finish up some packing for a trip to the mountains this weekend and I had such a wave of sadness hit me. Sadness that all of my 'stuff' my art supplies, vintage fabrics, vintage papers, art papers, bits and bobs could all vanish in an instant. Totally out of my control. There would be no way to replace any of it. Insurance wouldn't even begin to cover the precious bits I have collected over the years.
My sadness didn't last more than a couple minutes. I started sorting through some fabrics and quickly realized that it is all just 'stuff'. What is