Maybe demolitions are actually renovations, which has me thinking that this world is being rebuilt big time—although, sure, right now it feels awfully torn apart. I say: Let’s wait and see?
Or that’s what I tell myself as the mandatory evacuation area creeps closer to my home and acre of land in the foothills of Colorado. The nearby mountains are on fire, and so is most of the West. Demolished forests near and far land on my house in the form of ash. As I turn on the sprinklers to prevent dry-grass fires, and stare at the milky sky and red sun, I wonder: Is this what renovation like? Fires bring renewal, sure, and these forests needed to burn. Their tinderbox status, like our society’s, is real. But this misery lead to new growth, no? Wildflowers and baby aspen. And perhaps, if we do it right, the equivalent in society: new, green, and necessary regrowth.
