The terrible wonder of fire
As I write this, there’s a subtle scent of smoke in the air. The
Indians Fire in the heart of Los Padres National Forest continues
to smolder, and plumes of smoke from western Monterey County are
visible every afternoon in Hollister.
A week ago, we walked through what looked like a snowfall of ash
in Moss Landing. Our car and clothing were liberally dusted with
white flecks.
The terrible wonder of fire
As I write this, there’s a subtle scent of smoke in the air. The Indians Fire in the heart of Los Padres National Forest continues to smolder, and plumes of smoke from western Monterey County are visible every afternoon in Hollister.
A week ago, we walked through what looked like a snowfall of ash in Moss Landing. Our car and clothing were liberally dusted with white flecks.
Fire is as much part of nature in California as trees, water and grasslands, but a sky darkened with smoke nevertheless produces vague unease.
The fire burning in the heart of Los Padres reminds me of an earlier conflagration there. In 1977, the Marble Cone Fire charred 175,000 acres of wilderness, the second largest wildfire in the history of the state. For days, the sky at noon was deep red. Ash fell throughout the area.
After that fire was extinguished, the land erupted with life. Wildflowers carpeted hillsides. Eventually, dense thickets of chaparral returned. Much of the Ventana Wilderness and the surrounding Los Padres are nearly impenetrable today, the result of a buildup of vegetation and lack of trail maintenance.
Many of the plants that, together, make up chaparral, depend on periodic fires for vitality and regeneration.
That said, the power of a fire can render us mute with awe. Saturday afternoon, a group of us stood outside a building 1,700 feet above the floor of the Salinas Valley, high in the Gabilan Range. Circumstance placed us exactly opposite the Indians Fire. As temperatures climbed above 100 degrees, the fire appeared to race up a canyon branching south of Arroyo Seco.
Throughout the day, we kept returning to the windows to peer at the fire. A string of smoke plumes along a ridgeline told of backfires being lit to stop the uncontrolled flames.
Reports from the fire early this week are that it may continue to burn until the end of July. With several small burns from Saturday lightning strikes and a Friday fire along Highway 1 near Aptos, it’s obvious that it’s likely to be a long, hot summer.
Real estate columnist Nants Foley writes elsewhere in this issue about how to best protect your home from fire. It should be essential reading.
But even as we face the dread of a long, smoky summer, the promise of rejuvenation with next season’s rains is offers hope and anticipation.
