Days of gray and days of darkness
days of shuttered smoke.
the skies are sceaming ash.
Fire is in the mountains and the
valleys are roaring like a
a thousand freight trains tear my soul
Cinders fall as twisted scales
from the dragon shaking free.
Run for the shelter
run for the river
the Dragon ‘s on the loose.
© copyright Christalene Loren 2018. All rights reserved.
The River/Ranch or Mendocino Complex Fire started around noon on July 27, 2018. As of today the fire has consumed 255,482 acres and is 48% contained. It has been declared as the largest fire in the history of California. The fire has destroyed 119 residences and 110 other building. Most of the cities west and north of Clearlake had been evacuated.
Channel 6 KPIX video of the Fire.
Just to get an idea on the size of this fire
Today Lakeport and the surrounding cities on the north shore are slowly being repopulated. while most of the fire is burning out of control in the Mendocino National Forest and east of the Indian Valley reservoir.
The fire is north of PsiKeep
The mornings at PsiLKeep begin with a blood sun rising and is quickly obliterated by the smoke.
Many days I do not see the sunrise. Just smoke turning the day a lighter gray. The hills other side of the valley just two miles away are smoked in. It is like looking out into the abyss. Of course all of this is minor compared to most of the population in the west and north ends of the county where the fires raged.
The smoke and the heat has been pretty debilitating It has become difficult to keep up with the daily maintenance of the ranch. I just go out and feed and medicate the animals and retreat to the computer to keep up on the latest fire information.
On August 7, 2018 the afternoon wind blew most of the smoke from the fire to the north and to the east. The sun dipped below the smoke and there was a brief moment of sunlight on the hills across the valley.
Everything is hungry this time of year. Both the fire and deer have got to eat. Each year when the poison oak has turned, I start setting out the sweepings from the hay shed. The deer come down to eat and drink from the water containers under the oak trees. This doe look pretty well fed.
Final day; final harvest
of the last of the persimmons.
Cutting wood and bringing it under cover.
The goats restless with the smell of autumn rain
a broken tide of clouds darkens at day’s end.
On Hallows Eve they came as silent as ghosts.
but for the whisper of their hoofs swashing the leaves.
They came following the does.
Drunk on pheromone and lust
Tossing the weight of their antlers in empty threats
At the broken moon.
The redwoods were too much for them
The scent of pine oil lathering the air.
They were don quixotes swinging at windmills
as they plowed the redwood saplings to the ground.
In the morning nothing left but broken branches.
The bark rubbed clean from the cambium.
Girdled, the young trees will weaken
and eventually die.