As I write this morning, the smoke is so thick here in Sedona. The cool air from the night brings it down and it is oppressive. Usually I have a beautiful view of Thunder Mountain from my back deck-

this morning, I cannot see past the street behind me, and feel my lungs burning... 

This fire has stirred up a lot for so many here in Sedona and all over the country. The outrage of it being human-caused, the sadness of the destruction of such a beautiful area. I went to a poetry reading yesterday and heard some some of the writings that people are sharing. It's touching everyone, and I got to thinking about the cycle of death & rebirth, the preciousness of everything, and the reminder that everything is temporary, and has its cycle... 

With that said, it had to be devastating to have a beloved home up in Oak Creek Canyon and wonder if you would ever see it again. This is a photo that was posted by someone who's parents home was nearly destroyed, but made it through- the nearly 1,000 firefighters that came here to fight this incredibly difficult and dangerous fire were absolutely amazing- 

And now photos are coming out showing just how much of the canyon did not get destroyed. We were all wondering if our beloved West Fork trail was completely gone, as earlier reported, but thankfully, it is looking pretty good for what went through there...

 These are from some other nearby trails I've spent a lot of time on...

This was from the other night- the wind starting blowing the smoke south and the sunset caught the smoky clouds...

The beauty within the destruction- what a beautiful reminder from Nature.

I share this poem my friend Susan Pitcairn wrote yesterday...

Blue Quail

    

Blue quail rises up

Out of the fire-torn canyon,

Half spirit, 

Half the will for life

 to go on.

Singing the distant chants

Of tree after tree

Exploding into ecstatic horrible jewels 

Of primal energy.

Gone the soft paradise of fern

And penstemon, leafy glades to

Quench the thirst of the heart.

Gone for now,

Leaving only the blank black canvas

On which new life 

Will find new designs

Despite, 

Or with the help of,

Our Kind.

Who can but try

To kneel to the Earth

And make amends.