Becoming Calm
Not only did I read becoming calm in a forecast but also I can feel it starting to happen around me. Yesterday was a test that the firefighters passed with flying colors. Winds were gusting, temperatures were hot, and anything could have happened with the fire. They say no news is good news but I can’t agree. I waited nervously to hear from anyone how the day was taking shape yesterday and how the lines were holding and if the fire was getting close to the trigger points for evacuation. I waited until I couldn’t stand it any longer and then I started dialing and trying to get a hold of someone who could give me any information. With tears of fear and frustration I finally got a hold of someone and heard things were going well, then I cried tears of relief. It was a long day yesterday and it’s been a long week. I love where I live at the end of the Gunflint Trail and I love what I do for a living. I can’t think of any place I would rather be or any job I would rather do than to introduce people to this wonderful wilderness area. I am so thankful and grateful to be able to live and work in such a wonderful community with such awesome people. The thoughts and prayers that have been expressed from guests, friends, family, neighbors, and even strangers through the Blog have been overwhelming. I really appreciate all of the kind words and support that has been given to us during this ordeal. I am extremely thankful to the USFS who has helped me stay in this beautiful place by conducting prescribed burns since the 1999 blowdown. I am lucky to live here and I know it and thank everyone who helps make this type of life possible for me and for my family. I had to remind myself yesterday to put things into perspective. I took the boat out onto Sag, hiked up a favorite rock, and soaked in the view. My backyard is a wonderful backyard and nothing will ever change that. Not the Sag Fire of 1995, the blowdown in 1999, the Alpine Fire last year, nor the Cavity Lake Fire this year. Sure, the landscape has changed over the years we have lived here, but the wilderness remains the same. The moose still eat noisily in the ponds, the loons still sing their morning song, the stars still fill the sky, and the water and the wilderness still beckon and have the ability to calm. This morning’s forecast calls for winds from the South to Southeast, changing to the Northwest from 5-10 mph. and then later this evening becoming calm. This is a good thing both for the fire and for me.