“A spirited jig it dances bright,
Banishing all but darkest night.
Give it food and it will live;
Give it water and it will die.
”
Flickers of orange and red fill the air, and wood buckles and cracks as flames consume their every fiber. The beauty of fire is unparalleled yield to its danger. It grasps your attention, but its implications are highly varied. A spark inches towards its target: a pinecone. In seconds, smoke fills the air and you hear gentle pops and cracks. The process is as breathtaking as it is devastating. How can we expect to control the spontaneity of fire? As I watch the fire burn, I can only imagine how it overwhelms its environment as a wildfire. The alarming increase and intensity of these fires lingers in the back of my mind, and I am careful to control the beast
at hand. Fire can bring light, warmth, and safety into our lives, but it can also ruin our livelihoods. Fire is captured by cameras, and it speaks volumes. Some of the most compelling images have been taken on the front lines of wildfires. Injured animals, burning homes, smoking trees, and fire crews working to dig a fire line give us a glimpse of consequences-- consequences that can only grow in these scenarios as they spread further and burn longer.
Fire, in some situations, is a completely natural and desired process that revives and restarts an ecosystem. Jack pines need fire to reproduce, as the heat opens their cones and spreads the seeds. It can restore wetlands by weeding out water-sucking trees that lower water levels; animals such as moose benefit from this wetland restoration as it provides access to aquatic plants in their diet. Rivers and streams even benefit from fires in a way you would not expect: they make the water colder and flow stronger. Smoke reflects solar radiation and cools the air and water beneath it. From personal experience, I can vouch that this is the case. I rafted 80 miles of the Salmon River in Idaho during active wildfires in California. The area was in record heat, yet we spent six blissful days on the river in the shade. The smoke coated the sky and protected us from the sun; I cannot even begin to imagine the heat we would have been experiencing without the fires. Although the benefits are plenty, it is important to remember that good things exist in moderation. Nature has evolved by and through fire, but that is not something to promote and misunderstand. Fires in the northwest, especially in California, have led to an increase in "climate refugees"-- both humans and animals. The increased frequency and acceleration is a huge indicator of climate change, as Death Valley experienced a record high (on Earth) 130 degrees fahrenheit. Over 330,000 acres of land burned in Washington in a single day-- more than the total of the last twelve fire seasons. Closer to home, almost 70% of New Hampshire is experiencing severe drought which puts us at a high risk for wildfires. The world is changing, and fires are simply another example of visible change.
The human race has been resisting change since the beginning of time, and there are many reasons why we are a stubborn group. Misunderstandings, lack of trust, poor communication, exhaustion, and low reward are all possible explanations as to why we fail to make change. Of course, change spans from eating a different kind of cheese to losing a loved one and beyond. It can be challenging, it can be good, and it is most certainly stressful. Personally I love to experience a change in scenery. Since college, I have lived in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Ohio, New Hampshire, and Alaska in just three years.Jumping around into these new places gives me a chance to broaden my background and taste the world-- Wisconsin has unmatched delicious cheese, Ohio has buckeyes, Minnesota with tater-tot hotdish… I grew up camping in the Adirondacks of upstate New York, so their maple syrup will forever be my love. I have met some of the nicest people in the midwest, the Minnesota northwoods showed me incredible black bears, and the western Red River Valley has its own charms (and sugar beets). Alaska is a vast world of mountain and ocean scenery with the best seafood I have ever had, and New Hampshire has pristine lakes, breathtaking views, and steep terrain in the White Mountains. Change teaches you to be grateful for the opportunities that this career offers. From the city to the northwoods of Minnesota to southeast Alaska, everything is different, and it can be a jolt to come to terms with new surroundings.
Even slight changes to your routine can impact your day. With the fall weather upon us, I have to remember to put on layers in the morning. Colder temperatures raise your blood pressure as the body responds to a loss in heat. I have to make hot coffee instead of iced coffee. The decorations in the room have evolved from nothing to a few scattered pumpkins. (These are big changes). Even horoscopes call for change, as mine tells me I will experience a call to action within my career, and I need to search for balance in my relationships. Who knows if any of these changes will lead me down a new path, but every single time I wonder what my future will hold, I can rely on change to be the guardian of my life. I hold Winston Churchill’s words to a high degree:
““To improve is to change;
to be perfect is to change often.”
”
Making changes in your life can spark a flame and set you on a new journey. The only way to find out if you belong on the path is to pick up the torch and explore. Check out the side-paths that may bring you to beautiful views, or they may dead end and you have to turn back. The possibilities are endless, but at the end of the day, I hope to find myself sitting by a crackling fire in an Adirondack chair.
Beth is a half-timer at the SLA. We appreciate her communication, project-seeking, and knack for environmental education. You can learn more about Beth here!