Firestorm

Silence, Before the Storm

It was massive
And already on its way
But we didn’t know yet
We were in the death zone
The initial frontline of impact
Sunday night
I was lying awake reading
‘Alone On the Wall’
Bivouacked, in the world
Of a solo free climber of vertical rock
Who defied imagination
That’s when the scent of smoke
Wafted through the open window
I noticed, but kept reading
It was a breezy, balmy
Inland California valley evening
With no clouds and a star-studded sky
We felt safe, in the twilight
Our house, anchored into bedrock
More than a quarter century standing watch
Over the Russian River Valley below
Foothills, of the Mayacamas Mountains

Earlier that evening, my wife and I
Watched the sunset turn tangerine
Against a cobalt blue sky
But twilight fell eerie
As the last rays slipped away
All of the sounds stopped
The earth paused
Like a pressure drop
The silence
No wind
No crickets
No birds
No cars
No dog barks
No coyote howls
No frogs
No voices
No train whistles
No chainsaws
No fox cries
No hawks
It was dead silent
Even the ambient sounds
Of Highway 101
And Mark West Road
Gone
We’d never heard it so quiet before
‘Might be earthquake weather?’
We joked nervously, letting it go at that
And listened to the absolute silence
Then
Our neighbor opened and shut a door
You could hear the door knob turn
A latch release
And then the squeak
Of the door’s dry hinges
Slowly opening
From a hundred yards away
Through the trees
Then we heard a plane
High overhead in the distance
The wind began to stir
Crickets started up
Sounds were coming back
And with the sounds
Winds started to build
As we sat under the emerging stars
Unaware that something
Was beginning to go wrong
But there would only be silence
During those unsuspecting hours
As the storm gathered in waves
Rolling into the forests, fanning out
Across the brown tinder grasslands
Stealing across dry creek beds
Illuminating the night, its roar building
Gathering its energy
In the hill country to the east
While thousands slept
To the West
Unaware

As I lay reading at 11:30pm
The smoke intensity increased
Now it had my attention
I put the book down
It would never be picked up again
Wind gusts were getting stronger
Starting to rattle deck furniture
And sway oak and redwood trees
I got up and went to the veranda
Looked down to the valley
It was warm
Lights twinkled below
Out west along River Road
Otherwise, it was pitch black
As far as I could see
But the smoke was there
And it was thickening
This smoke seemed different
Not the smoke of the Valley Fire
That drifted down from Lake County
Two years before
A light odor, high overhead
Nor the smoke of the Helena Fire
That came south from the Trinity Alps
Diluted in the winds by miles of travel
This smoke was dense and fresh
Primal, a deeper body to its scent
Alarming in complexity
An ode to wine country
My wife and I went outside
Walked the property with flashlights
Nothing
The dogs were alert, but stayed close
I walked down to the road and looked
I could see three neighboring homes
Again … Nothing
But the veil of smoke
Creeping everywhere

So I called 911
First time in my life
Dispatcher said they were getting
Hundreds of calls
About smoke and fire
From all over the region
Clear the line, she said
Watch the hills
Look for orange glows
You are on your own
I saw no signs of fire
In the valley below
But I felt the beat
Of a warning drum
A growing sense of alarm
Rushed to the car, drove fast
Down the winding foothill road
To Reibli Valley, over to Mark West
Gunned it up the Mayacamas
East toward Calistoga
On Porter Creek Road
Into higher country
Just above our home
Hitting 70 in a 45 zone
I saw people wandering
Out of their homes
Looking up into the dark sky
Bewildered, not comprehending
What was coming in the night
I had my car roof cracked open
Smoke was getting stronger
I drove fast in the narrow turns
Passed Mark West Lodge
Franz Valley, Safari West
Toward the Petrified Forest
Hit a turn hard
Sudden chill
Disbelief
At the wheel
The scale of it all
Before me