Where There's Smoke

I don't know the exact moment the Pack Creek fire started on June 9, but sometime on that day, someone made the decision to leave a campfire burning. The details haven't been released. All I know is that "an unattended camp fire" destroyed almost 10,000 acres of wilderness and it's not contained yet. 

Fires happen naturally in the desert, of course. But this one was caused by neglect, haste, or just plain stupidity. Maybe it was ignorance —not knowing the impact that a single ember might inflict on the dry landscape. Maybe it was purely an accident. Maybe the person (or people) thought their campfire was completely doused and out. Maybe there's someone waking up this morning —in New Mexico or Ohio or Oklahoma who knows where —with a very guilty conscious because they know deep-down that they were the cause of this disaster. 

At least four homes were destroyed, and hundreds of people at least temporarily displaced by the blaze that filled the skies full of smoke. Firefighters and emergency responders risked their health and their lives attempting to quell the inferno. By Thursday afternoon, an enormous plume of smoke obscured the LaSal Mountains — which is quite a feat considering that the LaSals are a presence in Moab, like giant sentinels who guard the desert and its people. 

On Thursday, the wind blew all day from the south making the fire harder to contain. Firefighters on the scene were called back. There was nothing more they could do. When the wind died down early Friday morning, the smoke settled on the town. The heavy stench of charred wood filled our house, permeating even our bed linens and our hair. 

A week after the blaze started, the fire still had not been contained. 

Somewhere in Alabama or Texas or Ohio or who knows where, the person or people who left their camp before making sure their fire was fully extinguished didn't smell like smoke. If they took pictures of Pack Creek earlier that day, they have a record of the beauty they destroyed through their thoughtlessness. We don't know who they are or where they are now. But what we do know is that a single act of carelessness destroyed 10,000 acres of Mother Nature's careful growth. It will take years, maybe decades for that life to be replaced and even then, things will never be the same. 

Some good will come of this tragedy. I don't know what it is, but I know that nothing occurs on this planet that does not have some positive effects. Some plant or animal will benefit because of the burn. A real estate holder may receive a windfall because of insurance money or FEMA support. Maybe a ranger who was supposed to work in the park that day got time to spend with her family or relax and watch a TV show that made her laugh. Maybe it gave a scientist or software engineer a better idea for how to fight fires in windy conditions. We don't know. That story is still being written. In a few months the fire will be mostly forgotten by man, but not by the forest and the desert and the creatures who live there. 

To my knowledge, I've never started a forest fire. I've never walked away from a camp fire without dowsing it (literally) to death. But I'm sure I've caused harm without intending to. I know my actions have delivered consequences that, in their own way, burned for days and caused unnecessary suffering. I try to be mindful of my actions for this reason —because I don't always know the repercussions of my words and deeds. 

In Buddhist terms, this is called karma, meaning cause and effect. A single thoughtless action can yield irreparable damage. It's enough to give me pause before I get out of bed in the morning. And yet, I do get up and go about my day. The best I can do is be mindful of my actions, to move through the world gently, with kindness and deliberation. And I fail — a lot. And I make amends and make a conscious effort to replace my negative habits with positive ones as soon as I realize what I've done. 

The aftermath ...

Somewhere in Arizona or California or Mississippi or who knows where, the person who left that campfire burning in Pack Creek may be waking up to the reality of their misdeed. And if they do, let's hope that I can be as compassionate to them as I am with myself every time I awaken to my own humanity.