Fire is part of the annual cycle in San Diego. In milder years it is part of the backdrop, a random burn here or there out in East County. Places we have heard of… Julian, Ramona, San Jacinto. Perhaps we have even visited for a brief wilderness respite. A jaunt into the fragrant pine forest, an overnight camping trip under the stars, an apple picking foray far from the hustle and bustle of San Diego crowds. But as we sit in gridlock, creeping through traffic on the daily slog toward the 9 to 5 cubicle, these magical places of our memories seem to exist only as figments of the imagination, millions of miles from the beach towns, housing developments and high-rises we call home. The burn reports are an interesting note in your morning commute, glancing through your mind in one ear and out the other while juggle the grocery list and kids’ soccer games. Many months later, when you can squeeze in the time to visit your favorite wilderness escape, you may find yourself hiking through the charred wreckage. Yet the blackened remains of tree stumps and burnt hillsides, and that smoky smell of charcoal, still seem distant… a dismal and barren reminder of what has passed but dead of the emotion and turmoil of the raging fire.
Occasionally the fires threaten to invade the city, traveling up the canyons that cut through the suburbs, refuges of tinder wilderness in a sea of concrete. Friends and coworkers are urged to evacuate their homes as the fire burns like a fuse towards the San Diego metropolis. A red haze blankets the sky, and the smell of smoke pervades the air. An eerie sense of foreboding looms, as all we can do is huddle together and wait as Mother Nature runs her course, hoping that the firefighters will prevail in their struggle to defend the outskirts of our civilization. We are powerless against Mother Nature’s fury. Refusing to be ignored any longer, she exerts an undeniable dominance over our frivolous ways, and we are humbled and terrified by the display.
But Mother Nature is not our enemy, and neither is her gift of fire. We have deep roots ingrained in both. There is nothing as mesmerizing as starring into a campfire for hours on end, flames dancing in the darkness in ribbons of gold, bronze sparks spitting into the night, carried on the updraft to mingle with the stars above, and the crackling embers below, pulsing with red hot intensity like the heart of the Earth itself. Yet we are so often removed from these primal experiences.
I have had the good fortune of witnessing fire in a truly stunning and surreal display of beauty and fury that it has been seared into my mind for all of eternity. Flying cross-country through the darkness of night, I peered from the portal window of a commercial jetliner down onto the advancing front of the Qualcomm evacuation fire of 2006. The flames snaked across the hillsides, glowing an ominous red and billowing smoke across the charred landscape it left behind. Stunning and scary at the same time, primal is the perfect description. A feeling you didn’t even know existed inside you. A feeling so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. An intimacy with the roots of humanity. A deep secret hiding away in your core until the right situation surfaces. There’s nothing like fire to unlock the beauty of it.
Looking down on this ancient phenomenon from the wings of American Airlines was a particularly surreal contrast. I must have boarded at the wrong gate, stepping into a time machine instead of an airplane, and was now mysteriously transcending time and space to witness this most amazing scene from pre-history. Unfortunately they still served only pretzels, a timeless treat evidently. Twenty minutes later I touched down right in the heart of San Diego. Just like that, my time travels had come to an end. Overwhelmed by a mind-blowing culture shock, I collected my baggage and stepped out into the glittering lights of the downtown skyline. Disoriented from the surreal journey I struggled to grasp reality. But as I stepped into the night, the smell of the distant fire wafted through the air and intermingled with the primal memory of pre-history burning in my core. I closed my eyes to see the snaking fire seared across the blackness behind my eyelids. It was not a faded memory, or fleeting thought as I hailed a cab. It was a part of me, an essence hidden deep in the hearts of all humanity. It was real.
