FLAMES AND STARS

FLAMES AND STARS

The winds raged outside whipping trees into a tangled frenzy, throwing dust and debris across roads, and even overturning top heavy vehicles. All the while, refusing to pause anywhere over the landscape of Rosa’s vast valley, the winds relentlessly scoured the land. 

Somewhere, someone lit a match to wind-bent dry grass. The winds did what winds do. They picked up the spark and breathed it into flames spinning those flames into monstrous fireballs and then with their mighty power, they flung those flaming fireballs near and far.

Rosa awakened as the winds rattled windows and doors while her faithful dog Juniper whined his wind song. She arose and checked the windows and doors to make sure they were holding against the winds. Steeling herself she walked onto her back deck that overlooked the valley and saw a flicker of flames far off on the western horizon. Surely, she thought, that flicker of flame will not reach me here in my hilltop home.

She went inside and turned on her battery powered radio as she checked her battery supply. The radio announced that the winds were turning a lowly brush fire into a firestorm. Chaos was ensuing and endangering people’s lives from the dust and smoke and flames. Some areas of the valley were on alert for evacuation. Then, she heard an ominous report of fire flamed by ninety plus mile an hour winds moving up mountain and hilltop areas at alarming speed. Rosa turned off the radio to conserve the battery and since she still had electricity, switched on the TV. Images of waves of flames leaping and cavorting with the winds greeted her. The firestorm was moving fast and although fire crews were fighting the fire, they were losing the battle. Wind-driven fire was winning. The firestorm was growing as the news cameras rolled.

Rosa was momentarily paralyzed by fear and then Juniper’s plaintive whining punctured her consciousness, and she knew it was time to gather herself together in order to evacuate. Living as she did in a place that was no stranger to wind-fueled fires, the readiness to evacuate was a fact of life for her. She never let her gas tank sink below half full. She habitually kept an emergency cash fund at the ready. She also kept a supply of two cases of bottled water in her car’s trunk which she regularly rotated by dispersing the unused water every couple of weeks to the homeless and replacing her supply. She had just completed such a dispersal rotation a few days ago. She dressed in layers and pulled on hiking boots. She made herself a quick breakfast of eggs, toast and tea as she listened to updates. She cleaned up quickly.

When finished, she went out to her garage carrying her “evacuation bag” which contained essentials of clothes, basic toiletries, daily medications, first-aid supplies, and copies of important papers. She commenced the work of packing her car, making sure she had blankets, nonperishable food for herself, and Juniper’s food and water dish. She checked the battery-powered radio she had recently bought for her car. Rummaging in a drawer in the tool cabinet in her garage, she found the extra batteries that would fit that radio and moved them into the car. Her instincts were telling her evacuation orders would come soon.

She paused in her packing, used her checklist to make sure she had all the essentials; then grabbed up her bird-watching binoculars and made her way struggling against the wind onto her deck. From her vantage point even without the binoculars she could see that the far-off flicker of flame she had seen upon awakening had indeed moved much closer, and seemed to be gaining ground very rapidly. Already the heat was building and smoke-filled air was making breathing more difficult. Yes, she was going to have to evacuate and soon. Fighting the wind, she regained entry into her house and gathered the last of her stuff she would take. She took it out to the car, leaving room for Juniper in the passenger seat where he always rode. She was ready to go. Having grown up in this valley, she had her escape route by little known back roads and a safety destination out in the desert waiting. As she was thinking and looking around at her home she loved, she heard the newscaster say her zip code was now on the evacuation order list. She had heard enough and turned off the TV.

She slipped on her waiting backpack saying to Juniper, “We’re out of here,” as she scooped him into her arms and headed for the garage. She buckled sweet Juniper into the passenger seat. She backed her well-provisioned car cautiously out onto the street, and headed down the hill to hook up with the road that would lead her to the next road and the next. As she drove carefully down the hill, in her rear-view mirror, she saw a spinning ball of fire flung by the wind land on her cedar shake roof and burst into flame. Watching her home being voraciously consumed by flames with tears running down her face, she patted Juniper whose whining was becoming increasingly louder. She could see fire-balls landing all around her. It was a firestorm and in the space of minutes, her neighborhood was burning. She was in the midst of a blazing hell. Gripping the steering wheel, somehow, she kept driving as Juniper whined his wind song. She passed people frantically loading children, pets, and possessions into cars to make a get-away. Some people determined to save their homes were watering down roofs amongst the onslaught of wind and fire. The whole scene was apocalyptic.

Within a few minutes of concentrated driving, she reached the turn off that would lead her to her back-road route to safety. There were a couple of cars behind her now, but they continued on down the hill and did not follow her. Rosa sighed. She suspected the firestorm would most likely hit this area she was driving through. At the moment, she was experiencing low visibility from dust laden smoke, which required fierce concentration to stay steady and keep on driving toward her goal of reaching the backroad that would take her beyond her valley and into the desert. Her radio kept saying this wind-fueled firestorm was highly unpredictable, as its direction shifted with the winds. Fear of that unpredictability filled the air just like the smoke. She felt it and Juniper’s whining wind-song and trembling little body expressed it. She reached out and patted him. He was such a cuddler. He raised a paw, his usual signal to climb into her lap.

Because she had him seat belted in for safety, she patted him and murmured, “Hang in there, Juniper, not yet. When we reach the road that takes us out into the desert, then you can come into my lap.”

The sound of her voice and the reassuring pat calmed him a bit. At least, he stopped trembling. He scrunched down in the passenger seat and kept whining his wind-song as if to say, “OK, but this is really scary.”

“I know it’s scary, Juniper, I’m scared too, but I believe we will make it to safety. We’ll stick together and see it through.”

Soon they came to another turn off which would be the road to the next road that would lead them straight out into the desert away from the ever-increasing conflagration.

A couple of hours later after an intense slow drive away from the valley, with Juniper cuddled on her lap as she drove, they came to a place where the smoke faded and the wind lessened to a mere zephyr. She could even see a rising full moon just above the horizon. There were no flames anywhere. They had made it to safety in the desert. In another couple of hours, she pulled onto the dirt road that led to the small cottage desert hideaway where she had come for years to write her books. The stars were starting to shine in the night sky. For now, they were safe, and this was their home. What would happen next only time would tell.

That night, after taking care of her needs and Juniper’s, she fell into bed with him by her side. Her dreams were filled with flames and stars.