Spent in a Blazing Skyline
a wordcast smothered by smouldering forests
Perhaps catastrophe is the natural human environment,
and even though we spend a good deal of energy trying to get away from it,
we are programmed for survival amid catastrophe.
〰 Germaine Greer 〰
Spending out of the Blue
You can't spend your whole life trying to guard against something happening.
If you do that, in my opinion, you've wasted your life.
〰 Tony Stewart 〰
We spent this week gazing at the sky. Not the night sky, which we might scan for shooting stars in late summer.
No! This week we were gazing at the sky in bright daylight, which lost its brightness all of a sudden.
Monday. Soon after 2 p.m. the sky turns a muddy khaki-beige. — We have lived in Portugal long enough to know what it means when the blue sky becomes murky, literally, out of the blue.
An hour later, dark purple plumes of smoke appear on the north-eastern horizon. —We send messages to friends and neighbours who live between our village and the purple plumes.
Tuesday. Thunder grey clouds billow into the sky, crowd out the sun, block everything else from view. — Life stops in its tracks. Sirens are whizzing past. Flames lick the skyline. Smoke consumes fresh air. — Fire planes pop in and out of the cloud layers, carrying precious loads of water. Menacing clouds turn vapour-white. — Around midday, stunned visitors arrive from Germany, via Porto, where the sky has turned sulphur yellow. They were unprepared for an ‘adventure holiday’. So were we.
Wednesday. We drive around to check on friends and neighbours. — Everyone is in a state of high alert. Fireengines lined up in strategic locations watching the skyline. Many fires still active. Forest floors smouldering.
Thursday. The Portuguese government declares a state of calamity. ‘2024 Portugal wildfires’ are mentioned in Wikipedia. — That night the first autumn rains sing their sweet lullaby. — Was that it? Is this fire season over as soon as it began?
Spend the afternoon.
You can’t take it with you.
〰 Annie Dillard 〰
We’ve been lucky this year. Hardly any fires in August. Although, you never know. Summer may not be over yet in Portugal.
Despite best intentions ~ and efforts ~ I’m unable to finish the wordcast this week. Wildfires don’t hold back, just because humans make plans.
Plans made by people who happen to live in the line of fire ~ disrupted for a day, for a week, or for life. Several homes, livelihoods, and lives devoured by hungry flames ~ where did they come from with no warning?
Spending all that time skygazing, watching signs of active fires, communicating with neighbours and friends who might need our help ~ the only thing to do ~ the only thing that made any sense.
Writing and editing to publish this wordcast ‘on time’ was interrupted by force majeure. So here’s the unfinished piece, the rest still hidden behind a veil of smoke.
How did we know we would be safe in the midst of burning forests in a land set on fire? Did prior experience give us that certainty? Why didn’t we prepare for evacuation? How could we be so sure?
We weren’t. During the last big firestorm 7 years ago, Josh and I discovered that we both instantly drop into an inner sea of calm in the face of danger. It’s a spontaneous response.
The eye of the storm offers a safe place to ride it out. In situations as huge as this, everything else is put on hold.
In a spontaneous exchange with
I mentioned that real danger is a rare experience in our relatively safe and comfortable lives. No wonder we are unprepared for catastrophes.On the other hand, I tend to agree with Germaine Greer’s suggestion. Perhaps “we are programmed for survival amid catastrophe.”
In the moment, when a catastrophe hits human awareness, there are many potential responses. Here is mine, the only one I am intimately familiar with:
I experience a deep sense of security in my core. However, flashes of doubt may flare up and ebb away ~ especially in the presence of others, for whom I feel responsible, who are teetering on the edge of worry. I totally understand.
And yet, in the knowledge that there is very little I can do, I tune into the powers of the natural forces. I feel we’re safe. For now.
The recent days leave me wondering, what is your spontaneous response when faced with a natural catastrophe, unprepared?
We are witnessing violent and ruinous symptoms of ignorant and perverse policies
While some give their bodies to the flames to save what little they have
Others plant eucalyptus monocultures and are the heroes of the national GDP
A handful of ash and another handful of nothing
Bless you both! Big hugs. Sounds scary. To be calm in the face of chaos is a kind of wisdom. Reflection is a gate to healing. Thanks for sharing. Running is in the bones of us once refugees here in Canada. The stories still tell us. Most of us here from a forced exodus or a choice to run. The fires come fast and the winds change. What would I carry with me if I ran?
Questions. Would I be calm? All I know is that I cherish both of you. I have never met you. Your words are enough to know. Your actions in the face of danger tell me all I need to know.
When the air clears. Just know. If you write. I am here. Always. Your words will always find a safe harbour and a home.
Keep writing. We need you. 🤲❤️