July 14

Eight years ago on this night I remember driving from Newcastle to Custer, watching flames from a forest fire curl high up into the dark sky along the limestone rim just north of the state line. It was spectacular and beautiful and terrible. In retrospect, I'm tempted to find some symbolic meaning in that orange glow. Maybe the stupidity of youth, burning so eagerly and thoughtlessly. Or the blaze of passionate affection, creating its own energy from the solid and unmoving forests. Obviously it wasn't the flame of eternal unity, at least not in the shallow sense of two hearts being joined together forever. I guess I prefer to see it as part of the phoenix cycle, the great fire of new life emerging. It's been slow coming around to the rebirth part of things, seems like, ashes and embers, finally breaking down into fragments to sustain the seeds of fresh growth.