This summer has felt like an extended, inescapable inferno.

You may have caught my post from a few months ago, where I shared with you the raging fires that were sweeping British Columbia at the time. The sheer size of the devastation and the impact on the ecosystem, wildlife, and communities was difficult to truly wrap my head around; the country looked on first in horror, and then a numbed resignation as fires were battled down, but not put out. Much like I always do when I can't calm my head or my heart, I ended up wandering into the forest looking for solace, and spent time taking pictures of areas where fires had burned in the past. The lithe green shoots of returning flora and desiccated patches of char in proximity somehow came across as strangely beautiful, and hopeful. Things will live and grow again.

As you can tell by my lack of posting, lots has been happening. And as it all threatened to close in on me in a stifling wave, as the heat and the spreading of greedy flames snaked through parched hills... it began to rain here. Soothing sounds, tremulous weaving trails of dampness cooling fevered brow and smoldering landscape alike.

It was so desperately needed and so lovingly accepted.

I put everything down, grabbed my camera and my stalwart hiking partner, and went to be (mostly) alone on a mountain while the sky split and crashed down around me. The catharsis of climbing the chilled metal supports of my electrical tower in sharp wind and watching the clouds roll through the valley in place of smoke... I don't know that it's possible to explain the same tumbling feeling that surged through me as a tentative peace pushed out all of the negativity I hardly registered that I'd been carrying.

This is Murphy. He usually snuffles around the base of the tower while I sit and think.

I sat above the clouds and below the crackling wires humming unpredictably overhead for a very long time.

Sheets formed of streaked lines blurred from the distance or the drizzle or
the seemingly unstoppable blaze both real and imagined
or maybe the haze was in my eyes already and just became apparent when I stopped moving and stopped wiping them clear

clarity of air, water, thoughts
and a descent too fast and too careless, warmed and sped by the bite of cold steel and
a slight fear of the rocks below unsure on the way up and alive on the way down
to slink into the woods and play at stalking and slithering.
A connection — reconnection — through each drop to all things and places, and to wild and joyful abandon.

Once I spent enough time sitting hidden above the cloudline, we took to the deep woods and got lost in the ferns

Found places the sunlight couldn't touch

Smiled at the great fortune we are blessed with

to trail the very apex of each outstretched finger through a scattering of diamond worlds I simply cannot fit into
a momentary joining and reforming in sensation; to pull away and watch each crystalline remnant burst in a glimmer of movement, collecting
both smooth and unblemished, softening and highlighting a view of crazed faults underneath.
A chaotic sheen of renewal and nourishment that lingers only shortly to be absorbed and fed off of
in bursts
and droplets
and the faintest, fading gentle patter when the world has had enough.

and of course, gratuitous dog photo, because this guy doesn't care about rain or climbing or deep thoughts or sadness or even relief. He just wants to run freely with me and share goofy, secret doggy grins as we get lost out in the woods. He's basically the best.

All of these photos, stories, and words are my own original work, inspired by my travels all over this pretty blue marble of ours. I hope you like them. 🌶️