I am so sad about the Wallow fire gobbling up the forests of Eastern Arizona that I have loved so much. Twenty years ago we first flew into the Springerville airport and I was hooked. I think when there is something so beautiful as an unspoiled forest with tall trees that seem to have stood there since the beginning of time that it is tempting to think they will always be there.
On that day, we piled in the Wolkins’ car and went to their ranch near Hannagan Meadow. Nestled in the puzzle bark trees their compound reminded me of Girl Scout Camp but in a very upscale way. One could sit on the large wrap around porch of the main cabin and watch the elk drift down the meadow at sunset. I felt like I could have stayed there forever. But we didn’t and neither did the Wolkins.
I remember five years ago running from Big Lake back to Greer. I was training for my first marathon and the air was a little thin up there and the path a little rocky, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. The sky was bright blue, the air was still and tiny persistent wildflowers still poked through and marked my path. I was running alone, which fills me with fears like swimming in the ocean. Unrealistic fears borne of watching too many news stories of shark attacks or the lone woman picked up by a crazy killer as she jogged alone down the desolate path. Were it not for being dogged by my imagination, it would have been perfect.
The worst thing about this fire, and the two other large fires currently burning in Arizona is that they were human caused. My friend Leigh likes to say “Just behave yourself.” Why is that so hard?
