FIRE LESSONS

Hurricane force winds roared down the foothills and onto the plains. I was exhausted from Christmas responsibilities and needed a nature reboot. I grabbed my camera and headed out to photograph the wind. Immediately, I smelled smoke.

As I crested the ridge and looked down upon the valley in which the barn lives, I could see a grey-tan cloud moving toward the barn.

I was aware of the unusual quality of the light behind an old cotton wood tree in the hayfield near the road. The contrast of silver, black and the tan air was captivating, so I tromped thru the deep grasses and wind to try to capture the magical light.

My intention for the day was to skirt the front range foothills and capture the blowing grasses. On the way, I passed the barn road and stopped in to visit Luna. By then, ash was filling the air and the smoke had begun to obscure visibility.

Quickly it became apparent this was a dangerous situation. Within the hour, the barn owner began coordinating plans to evacuate all 40 horses. As we waited for trailers to arrive, those of us not on the phones, began hauling saddles, bridles, and tack trunks out of the barn, and into our cars.

Over the next few hours, the evacuation was complete. By 11:30 that night, the barn owners packed up their clothes, their 3 dogs and fled. In the middle of the night, the wind changed direction, blowing the fire away from the surrounding pastures and our barn.

By morning, the area was safe for our return. At midday, our friends’ trailers and horses pulled in, as the snow began to fly. We carried all the tack back into the barn, blanketed the horses and tucked them into their stalls.

The above was the skeleton of the events of Thursday and Friday. December 30^th and 31^st. but here were my fire-lessons.

In the midst of the smoke and chaos, I paused to checked in with myself. I could tell I was quiet and focused. It was a great relief to realize I could be trusted to stay calm under pressure and do what needed to be done.

Then the lessons became more humbling.

Running to gather tack – no longer an option! I could only walk quickly, watching each step in order not to trip or lose my balance.

As I lead my terrified, thousand-pound horse through the smoke and noise into a yard full of other frightened horses, (all feeding off each other’s anxiety) idling trucks with trailers, I realized I didn’t have the ability to handle her. Just at that moment, one of the younger girls luckily said “Here, let me take her.”

Thank goodness I didn’t let my fierce sense of independence take over but quickly realized I was not agile enough to stay out from under her fast-dancing hooves.

Then as we hauled saddles to safety, I realized I could only carry one at a time, while the younger women had one under each arm along with girths and bridles!

The realizations smacked me in the face as the hours passed and exhaustion took over. I no longer had the strength, balance, and agility I once had. I can no longer do everything by myself.

I needed people.

Sleep was elusive for several days as my overly stimulated nervous system did it’s best to calm down.

So, I did what I know to do to refresh my soul – I went out with my camera. And that’s a whole other magical story.