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Frontline prayers for the firefighters
Originally appeared on spirituality.com
This morning I climbed up a knoll on the eastern edge of our property, one of three sides that adjoin the national forest. Up there the view expands for miles. Scanning the horizon, I looked for any wisp of smoke. I braced myself against the Santa Ana winds that were already stiff on what everyone expects to be another fierce day of firefighting in California.
The winds were quiet over night, but by 4:00am they’d kicked up again, gusting hard across our bone-dry valley. Although I didn’t see any sign of fire on the horizon, I knew I’d return later to check. Hiking back down to our mountain house, I was grateful for another moment without fire.
When we moved here not long ago, one of our first actions was to create some defensible space around the house by clearing off the brush that hugged it too closely. It’s what every fire station in these parts pleads with homeowners to do.
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