A family of bluebirds were flitting about, a stark juxtaposition against the charred mountain forest. Blanketed with ash and specs of black- bits of charcoal- the forest floor, denuded and colorless. Yet somehow still not lifeless.

Death gives way to rebirth, and something, someone, has to give up their life for the next generation. This harsh reality of life is something we must accept if we are to live a life of joy.

I have been around my fair share of fires. Living in the San Gabriel Mountains of Southern California dictates this. I lived through the Station Fire, the Bobcat Fire and now the Bridge Fire with countless smaller fires in between. The fires here burn hot. And when the winds pick up on the steep terrain, they often get out of control of the firefighters.

The Bridge Fire started small and seemed under control for a few days. Miles from Wrightwood and barely in the back of our minds.

Tuesday, September 10th, I was at home. My acupuncturist was working on my knee which was injured from running. I was on my way to Pasadena to meet a friend and to meet my Physical Therapist for a diagnosis and assessment on my knee. My acupuncture appointment went long. We chatted and I was absorbing the healing and enjoying the morning, but I had a tight deadline to meet a friend before the coffee shop closed.

The air was an ominous orange outside. It wasn’t smoky, but the glow of the sun and fire on the smoke plumes to our southwest was overwhelming. Red flag number one.

I ran around the house gathering a few items. I looked at my contacts and glasses, left them. I only grabbed my running shoes and yoga pants and t-shirt for my PT appointment before rushing out the door.

As I was driving down Lone Pine Canyon, I noticed a guy who had pulled over to take photos. I craned my neck to see what he saw in my rear view mirror. I pulled over instantly and took a few shots. The smoke plume enveloped the sky and reflected orange and pink- a sadistically beautiful site. Red Flag number 2.

I have always been hyper sensitive to evacuating fires, often evacuating when the fire is not even remotely close to my house. After the Paradise fire, it just makes sense to leave early and not risk being caught in a line of traffic where you could burn in your car.

But today, I simply wasn’t allowing my anxiety and fear to rule me. We had no “Get Ready” for evacuation alert, so I had no fear, no anxiety about the fire. In California, we have a “ready, set, go” evacuation escalation system. When they say get ready, just prepare and locate all of your things. Get all your documents and bags packed. Get set means, a go could happen at any moment. So pack your car, get your pets ready, and have the cars ready to go. When the go order hits your phone, just drive away.

Since there were not any “ready” announcements, I felt like I could leave and this wasn’t a problem. I had a coffee, a PT appointment and a dinner planned. I had things to do in Pasadena. So I continued on my way.

Throughout the day my husband was sending images of the fire, each image a ridge closer to Wrightwood. He was packing. I was telling him not to overreact, we still had not received a “get ready” so why bother? The fire was only about 3,000 acres. But the residents seemed to agree, as they drove to Inspiration Point and photo-documented the action as the fire raged towards the town.

I went into my PT appointment, and solely focused on my body for an hour, emerged to at least 100 messages, calls and voicemails. This is highly unusual for me.
I called my husband. He was half way to Pasadena already, with 2 of 3 of our cats, and a few things. The fire had grown from 3,000 to 34,000 acres.

We spent that evening fully believing our house was burned to the ground, with our Margot Tortoise Tenenbaum lost with the house. It was not a pleasant belief to hold.

Beliefs can ruin our lives. I really had to contemplate the philosophy of beliefs. People base their entire lives on beliefs. Strongly held beliefs. I realize how scary this is, especially in the context of what religious beliefs can do to people. And spending an entire evening and night, believing that I had no home, and that my cat was consumed by fire was not pleasant. It took me to dark places, that belief.

In the morning we could breathe knowing our home was standing and our cat was somewhere inside. The belief happened to be not truthful. Funny how that works, isn't it?

The time in Pasadena led to many joyful memories. Spending time with my Wrightwood friend, who was staying in a nearby AirBNB, walking, hiking, going to the local coffee shop, dinners with her and her family. Great times were had almost like a vacation. Seeing old friends, spending quality time with family. It was truly connection and community coming to life in real time. So much love was shared. In spite of life happening. We were blissfully living.

After 8 nights of living in Pasadena, we returned home. Our home and yard were largely unscathed. Save for a few bits of charcoal and holes in our doormats and wood pile covers.

But the Forest.

The Forest. We saw the squirrels. It’s haunting. But it is life. It’s difficult to swallow this reality. The pain and suffering none of us wish to bear. Our Forest needs healing. With a good snow and winter on its way, we know healing will come. We’ll not get back the trees, the lost souls of animals, nor the exact forest floor. It will be new, in time.

Sagebrush Alley no more. A small glimpse into our Forest home and the Bridge Fire destruction.

Seeing life emerge in the Forest is heartwarming. Running and riding my bike in the ashes of animals brings me great grief, but I know we are all a part of the same elements. Every story is written in a cell of our bodies. We hold the history, the life and death, the birth and rebirth in our souls and our cells. I celebrate this.

Many trees did survive the Bridge Fire. Thankfully. To offer a home to the wildlife that survived, and to offer oxygen for us to breathe. I am grateful. I mourn the loss, and celebrate the possibility of new life. (Just don’t let it be poodle bush).

For now, the Forest must die. And she will renew and be born again. And I will be here for the entire process.

As I sit back in my home, with my things, I go into re-mode. Reevaluate. Rethink. Revise. What do I NEED? What do I truly WANT? How do these things make me feel? What is actually important? What can I shed? How can I live my life with more purpose and passion? So that when these things happen, I can continue to grow, to expand and explore myself and come out a better person? I look at the Forest. I know. I am grateful, and I remove all the unnecessary things from my mind and move forward to my most authentic and aligned future.

Thank you Mother Earth, thank you for your life and healing. Thank you for giving us a place to put our footprints. I am ever grateful. I am grateful we were able to create new and lasting memories out of this event. I look forward to the many more bridges we’re building as a result.

Namaste
xx

~Tonya

The Bridge | A fire to Connection

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