I kept writing and rewriting this post, and it just wouldn’t come together.
Delete it all, condense and post the darned thing. No more funk. Here we go.
As many of you know, I live in central British Columbia, Canada. Smack dab in the middle of the region known as the Cariboo-Chilcotin. The Fraser River flows past my door. We are surrounded by forest on all sides. Beautiful forest, miles and miles of it, millions of acres of it. And it’s been really, really dry.
Now a bunch of it is on fire.
A month ago, July 7, this started up in my neighbourhood. This picture was taken from the upper hillside of our farm, an hour or so after a dry lightning storm passed through our region, sparking over a hundred forest fires, including these two.
The good news is that in four weeks these two particular fires have basically burned parallel to our river, above the escarpment, and joined up to form a united “complex”, as the forest service wildfire people call it.
Topography has been in our favour, as have been the prevailing winds. Fireguards have been built around some of the more troublesome bits, air support has quenched worrisome flareups. While anything could still happen given the right extremes of hot weather and strong wind – or another lightning storm – for now we’re looking good.
That tragically can’t be said for a lot of the rest of our region. Many of the other fires are bigger and angrier, and they are raging along out of control, being beat back here and there by the efforts of thousands of professional firefighters, logging crews, farmers and ranchers and First Nations “fire warriors”. Whole communities have been mass evacuated, major highways closed. Life for many is standing still as they wait things out far from the flames and the dense, stinking smoke; others are very much on the front line, fighting to save their homes and those of their neighbours.
People we know have lost their beloved houses; some have had hair’s breadth escapes from personal disaster. So much has been consumed!
This is utterly personal. The fire map looks like a guidebook to places we’ve lived in, wandered through, known and very much loved. We’re in a state of quiet grieving for the changes to our special places, while knowing that for others the loss is much more immediate and tangible. Survivor’s guilt lurks in the corner of one’s mind.
So there it is. Summer of 2017. One to remember, and it’s far from over yet.
I’ll leave you with a lighter note, book related.
When the smoke plumes on July 7 billowed ever higher, and a further investigation from a higher point revealed us to be surrounded by a total of six big smokes and numerous little ones, we made haste to develop a get-out-quick plan. We rounded up our pets, discussed a strategy for the farm creatures, and threw together some crucial belongings.
This done, we looked around to see what precious things we should save, if worst came to worst. Photo albums were obvious; these were packed up and stacked by the door. Computer back-up drives, cameras. My daughter collected her writings and her artwork. “Are you going to take any books?” she asked me, as I dithered between peering out at the status of our personal smoke plumes and checking and rechecking the forest service’s wildfire alert web page.
Where would one even start, in a personal library consisting of thousands of books?
It was easier than you’d think, and perhaps odder.
I must report that in the case of natural disaster, my most treasured possessions to be salvaged from flood or fire apparently consist of the four earliest (and exceedingly hard to come by) novels by my beloved Margery Sharp. (And my mother’s wedding ring.)
I’ve now had a month to mull over that book list, and it has remained exactly the same. In the meantime I’ve unpacked and re-read all four, and kept them handy, just in case. I might just add several more…
Onward we go, looking over our shoulders but basically getting on with things, feeling a bit like we’re living in the eye – or at least on the edge! –Â of a fiery hurricane.
We sure could use some rain.
Leaves & Pages 
Wow, scary – and sad.
We often have to contend with devastating forest fires here – some of them, alas, the result of arson.
I will pray for your safety.
Hope your rare books are all ok.The Elizabeth Cambridge springs to mins.
MIND that should read.
Tina – I thought of the Elizabeth Cambridge ones, too! And a few other “impossible to replace” ones… So far, all is well, all is safe. We have some fire control strategies in place for the worst case scenario of something new starting up close by; our greatest danger from the existing fire would be windblown embers coming our way. A spark would be enough – things are very, very, dry. But we are fortunate in that we have an irrigation system; we’re continually soaking down our fields and pastures, and the area surrounding our house, it’s lovely and green now, as recommended by fire prevention guidelines.
I love your blog.It is my favourite.I hope you are ok and all your friends and family too.
Shimona, yes, very scary at times, and very sad. We personally are relatively fortunately placed to weather this event in many ways. Our topography and proximity to the river are benefits. And we have a good escape route, and a safe place to shelter if absolutely needed.
But so many people have been deeply affected. Those who’ve lost their homes, and even more so the ranches which have lost cattle and infrastructure. Some places are losing all of their grazing land, their hay meadows, miles and miles of fences, crucial structures. Many are able to move their cattle to safety, but many are not – it is summer range season and the cows are out in the bush, and the fire moves faster than animals can run.
Not exclusive to Canada, these sorts of fires; I know they are an ongoing summer season event all around the world. And you’re right, the worst are the deliberately set ones. While most of ours are “natural”, at least two of the most destructive this year are thought to have been arson caused.
Thinking of you and everyone else threatened/affected by these disasters. Wishing you all safety.
On the other subject, I am not familiar with Margery Sharp, and hope you will rite about her sometime.
Best wishes.
Thank you for the kind wishes. So far no lives have been lost, and for that we are all immensely grateful. There are many putting themselves in harm’s way to fight these fires.
Margery Sharp…let’s see where I can send you to find out more…here’s an excellent website which will give you a glimpse of this very intelligent and witty novelist: https://margerysharp.wordpress.com/
Some of her books were recently released in ebook format, so she’s not as hard to find as she was for a while, but her wonderful earliest books are not represented in these reprints, and those are the ones I tucked in my just-in-case bag.
Oh my goodness – I hope you get some rain soon. And isn’t it strange how the essentials can be condensed down to 4 books. I really hope it doesn’t come to that…
Yes, rain, rain, rain is on everyone’s weather wish list! Sadly Mother Nature is holding back on that right now.
Interesting how the essentials are so simple when it comes right down to it! But the thought of rebuilding my collection of absolute favourite vintage novels after a worst case scenario is indeed daunting.
At present it looks like it won’t come to that, but these sorts of things are certainly good for making one appreciate what one has!
I hope you continue to be lucky and the fires die down soon. We’ve had a very wet summer here in the east of Scotland, I just wish we could send you some of our rain. I’m now wondering what I would choose to take with me given your circumstances.
We’d love some of your rain! But sadly none in the forecast for us.
Some of the fires will be burning until snowfall, the roots of the big trees will smolder for months, and there are some peat bog areas as well which will stay “live” for a very long time. Wonderful resources are being used by fire crews, including infrared heat scanners – technology combined with good old fashioned shovel work is what we will be seeing in the mop-up stage, but right now things are too active and volatile for much of that – the flames are live and moving.
Being under evacuation order is a sobering sort of thing – it concentrates one’s realization of what is truly important in a rather vital way. Family first, animals next, then important papers and photographs, after that a few token “special things”.
Most things, even our precious books, fall under the category of “just stuff”. Though if we did lose it all to fire it would doubtless cause us immense regret. We have built our own house as well, so that would be very hard to deal with losing. So much personal effort has been put into these places such as ours! Life’s work, really.
There are a lot of resources being put into firefighting at present; a comforting thought. There are firefighters here from all over the world, as well as local crews and crews from across Canada. We even have some help from the Canadian Army! A huge undertaking.
A lot of us have been lucky this time round; bad as it is, it could be a whole lot worse. Concentrating on that!
I hope you continue to stay out of the path of the fires. What a heartbreak they always are! The Rim Fire, just north of Yosemite, was one of the 5 largest in all California history, and burned Camp Mather to the ground — where the Strawberry Music Festival has been held for 25 years or more. I cried when I saw the news on tv, and of course the Festival has been moved and continues on. But our traditional campsite has been burned away, the Meadow is gone, etc. I know it’s Nature’s way of instigating new growth — the environment’s natural life & death cycle, but it’s still bittersweet, isn’t it?
Bittersweet, indeed. Nature will recover, and amazingly quickly, too! – but the landscapes are changed from what we knew so well. Those big trees won’t be back in our lifetimes, maybe some semblance will be there in our grandchildren’s time. Really sad on a human scale are the houses and landmark buildings lost, most of them in these fires are rural places, family farms, people’s dream homes and “life’s work” homes; some of them are heritage homes. The wild and domestic animals affected – killed, injured, displaced – are heartbreaking to think about. So far this year no human lives lost in our area; immensely grateful for that.
Meanwhile, in Ottawa we had more rain in July than any month on record. Wish we could have sent some out west. Hope the weather turns soon, and that there will be beauty in some of the new landscapes that emerge after the fire.
Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could share that moisture! A turn in the weather is now predicted, though that might change. Fingers crossed!
The landscape will recover, and very quickly, though the ecosystems will be altered as the burnt trees turn skeletal. Many things will flourish in the burns. Green grass poking through the first-burnt areas already. Nature is tremendously resilient! And the humans are already making plans for reconstruction, too.
All best wishes, the TV footage looked awful. Hoping for rain for you.
So exactly which Sharp titles were they….?
I imagine the TV footage is (was? – we are off the radar now, I think – it’s been going on too long even for the CBC to keep up much interest) quite dramatic – there are lots of opportunities for wall-of-flame images, for sure. But in reality a lot of it, especially up in this part of the zone, is now in smolder and hot spot stage. Little patches of unburnt trees burst into flames on occasion, but more just sullenly burning in tree roots and in fallen timber. Supposed to cool off this weekend, and there is even a possibility (!) of showers. Which would be lovely, though what we really need is a good week of steady rain.
So, which Sharps, you ask… Rhododendron Pie, Fanfare for Tin Trumpets, Four Gardens, and Harlequin House. Couldn’t locate The Flowering Thorn, but have it now added to the pile. Probably should add the three novella-collection, Sophy Cassmajor, Tigress on the Hearth, Nymph and Nobleman. All the others are a little more attainable. 🙂
Thanks for the update. I’ve been thinking about you, especially each time I hear “Williams Lake” on the news. I cannot imagine how worrying it must all be, especially balancing between stay/go, take/leave. So glad you are all safe (and your books, too).
Things are settling down to a great degree, though there is still some serious growth on certain fire fronts. Good friends have lost their places; no one is quite sure what the future will bring. Rebuilding for some won’t be an option as the land is physically damaged due to the high heat involved in Class 6 (the worst) firestorm conditions, the ground will not support revegetation in the short term as all organic matter is mineralized, wells are destroyed and such. A very sobering year, this is turning out to be.
Hugs to you, friend. This all sounds scary and awful, and I’m sorry y’all are having to deal with this. I wish you all the safety in the world.
>>It was easier than you’d think, and perhaps odder.
Dude, I have ALWAYS found this to be the case, on days when I have to choose what books to save. It seems like it would be hard, but when push comes to shove, my brain has strong preferences.
Interesting how when the crunch comes some decisions are so easy! 🙂
Scary and awful, for sure. Though we are (touch wood) over the worst of it in most parts of the region now. New fires farther to the south and to the north are blazing at this time, but there are a lot of resources being put into firefighting, some truly heroic things going on.
I hope the situation has improved. We have had an exceptionally humid and wet summer and then a microburst storm last Tuesday. Luckily our neighbourhood was spared. Hope you are all save.
https://pigeonfiles.wordpress.com/2017/08/25/montreal-microburst/
The situation in our particular area has improved as we are finally seeing cooler weather and a bit of rain, but things are still bad for some as the biggest fires continue to move on active edges. Some truly amazing firefighting efforts are going on, it’s remarkable that more homes haven’t been lost, though we’re now up into the hundreds gone. And no one has died. A lot to be grateful for, though the devastation in some parts is severe. No one is quite sure what is going to happen recovery-wise in the worst-damaged areas. There is talk about water tables being damaged due to the extremity iof the heat and the loss of all vegetation; some places will no longer be suitable for resettlement. We have seen the reports on the storms in your area – incredible! Mother Nature is not being so gentle with many of us this year!
I’m reading this late — busy with life and not spending much time online. But I wish you well. What decisions to make — books….My brother called a few weeks ago (they are still evacuated from their home northwest of you) to ask if we had a particular photograph of our parents because their copy of that one was large and framed and they didn’t want to take it off the wall. Strange to have to think so specifically.
Thank you, Theresa, for the kind thoughts. Things are pretty well back to normal here; it’s such a strange feeling to look back at the weeks when we were literally living in fear, scanning the horizon for flames coming our way. Still the reality for people in other parts of the Cariboo-Chilcotin. Had some bad news just a few days ago from our old home east of 70 Mile House – the Elephant Hill Fire burned past Young Lake and through Pressy/Little Pressy Lake, wiping out some precious places from our past, and leaving old friends homeless. No one is sure what their next step will be; many haven’t been able to even go back and look at their lost homes yet. The worst kind of limbo. Not even making the news anymore, the public gaze has moved on to other tragedies, as it does…
I hope your brother gets through his fire experience okay – there are a lot of very capable hands at work fighting the fires, and the cooler weather was on our side for a few days, though it’s getting hot and dry again. Well, we are certainly very aware of essentials this year – concentrates things tremendously when one looks around and considers what one can take along, not knowing if they’ll be seeing their home again. Very much people first, then animals, then a few mementos – those precious family pictures! – and then that discovery that everything else is truly just “stuff”. But this said, now that we again feel a little safer, I find myself putting my hand out frequently to touch our walls, telling our house how much we love it, thanking it for its shelter all these years. Just so it knows, just in case… 😉