Autumn

September howled past in a fury of harvest gold and it left me standing like a rickety, lonely stalk of corn in an empty field! What a growing season it has been! It’s October now and Robbie is home from work and we are transitioning out of our FINAL FIRE SEASON and into what will become the rest of our lives — after 15 years of serving your public lands (and you) we have chosen early retirement with zero benefits (which is the same as quitting). It feels wonderful and terrible to be finished with fire. I have been in survival mode for too many years now. I am afraid for my family to go down to a single income. However, the fear of being responsible for our sole income here is less than the fear I have of simply giving up on my life and my work and having a complete mental breakdown. I have been exhausted and overwhelmed for years and now I finally have an opportunity to recover. I’m so thankful. I’m looking forward to feeling less…crushed…less pressed in every direction. I’m looking forward to healing my body more, to soaking in my local hotsprings, to trying new recipes in my kitchen, to baking, to simply being with my husband more in a way that is present and unhurried and without the looming threat of April 1st fire season start dates. I also look forward to the thrill of building our lives into something new, developing our identities in new directions, turning ourselves into new and different people, having more time for our friends and our families. I’m afraid every single day right now, but I also move forward into the unknown with great faith in my heart that we can do this and that our people will support us in big ways.

Thank you for supporting me these past 15 years of my life while I have been a firewife. I have had so many friends give up on me because it was difficult for them to understand my life, the realities of being locked in perpetual survival mode here, of being really unfree in many ways — sometimes all we can do is keep ourselves alive and functioning under the duress of life. I’m deeply thankful some of you have stuck with me over the years. Thank you.

In other life news, October has been bursting at the seams for us, as usual, we look forward to a hopefully less hectic autumn season next year but for now, we’re full throttle here! Robbie has been planting our garlic crop while I’ve been working hard in the studio trying to pull together some Christmas season inventory for you all. I think we have SIXTEEN THOUSAND garlic cloves in the ground for this next growing season — all planted by hand, one by one, right side up, at the appropriate depth. We hope to have a mechanical planter in the next year or two because were going to get big enough that this hand planting is impossible. We’re building this garlic empire slowly, step by little step, which is the way all things should be built if you want things to last. The last garlic rows should be planted by the end of the day and we have friends coming for dinner tonight which will be a fun way to celebrate the official end of our growing season! Well, truth be told, I still have a lot to harvest in my garden in the way of cold hardy herbs and carrot rows. I’ll get to that when I can.

I had my hair cut yesterday for the first time in 6 or 7 months. I feel sleek as a wildcat.

I have been catching up on my letter writing with far away friends. It feels so nice to have the bandwidth to put pen to paper for them again.

I have been riding my horses in the evenings, when life allows, in absolute silence, through the sagebrush, under the sky. I think we could all use more silence in our lives, less manmade sound, fewer earbuds constantly jammed in our ears (I haven’t used those things for years). Out in the silence, I am only with myself and the elements. I am confronted by my self. I think about many things. I think about my crimes and sins. My regrets comb the silky hide of my soul backwards. It can be uncomfortable. I think about who I am. I dream about who I hope to be. I come up with ways to put my dreams and desires into action. I ask for forgiveness. I let the wind wash over me and the sunset baptize me and sometimes I hear a still, small voice speak to me and sometimes I see a burning bush. Spend some time outside in stillness and silence today. Don’t strain. Notice the sounds of the land around around you, delight in the flight of birds, run your hands over tall grasses and sagebrush and fir needles. Let your hair down and allow the wind to tangle it. There is something vast and mysterious waiting for you in the silence. Go to it.

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“We are no longer truly simple. We no longer live in simple terms or places. Life is a more complex struggle now. It is now valiant to be simple; a courageous thing to even want to be simple. It is a spiritual thing to comprehend what simplicity means.”

[Frank Lloyd Wright]