Fire into Fireweed
Beauty in destruction, the purging of the old to make way for new birth. Opportunity to reform the landscape from a blank black slate.
So many of us witnessed in horror and awe (and annoyance) the decimation of our pristine playground. I am sad for the loss but still look toward the future.
When the forest burned, we marveled at the beauty of the red, raging in the darkness.
As the snows fall, we will stare upon the peace and stillness of a black and white contrasted landscape.
When those snows melt, life will return, if will be different and it will be sparse but we will rejoice as the sun ushers in regrowth.
Some will lament at the spring rains but some will silently cheer. The rain allows us to recharge and prepare for the long days to come.
For the green and the fields of pink to come.
Vast armies of fuchsia will dominate over all other colors and as the days become shorter they too will change.
They will become a mirror of the horror and destruction that brought forth their victory only months before.