I had yet to climb the ridge and traverse the main drainage which revealed the fire’s massive scope. The fire, which occurred three months ago, had shaken my earth-loving soul so immensely, I needed some additional time before I could witness the spaces beyond the immediate areas surrounding us.

Around a month ago I made my way upward beyond the southern boundary of our land and into the heart of some of scorched earth. The landscape revealed incredible burn patterns aligning with our original assumptions. With the aid of unimpeded winds, the fire’s course completely engulfed nearly every bit of thinned forest. The earth upon this ridge is still mostly black with little regrowth. The growth that is present is mainly in the form of oak and juniper stump sprouts. This growth pattern will inevitably create denser, shrub and bush-like versions of juniper and oak. The very pattern of growth which leads land management agencies to conduct forest thinning operations in the first place.

Many of the of the ponderosas still left standing are scorched so badly, we fear many may never recover. In other areas, this definitely is the case, with ponderosa left as towering stands of crowned scars. Needle-less and black, they loom overhead, awaiting the pull of gravity to return them to the earth.

We look to the distant green of survived ponderosa forest on the opposite ridge from here, and try to determine if ever their spiraling seeds could make it this far. It seems improbable. In cases like this where fire cleared nearly everything, seed dispersal may be difficult for such off-site “parent” ponderosa to reach and establish in such distant patches before other tree species dominate.

In fact, in light of climate change, much of this space may never be a ponderosa-dominate forest again. We live near an elevation where the landscape transitions from juniper oak forest to ponderosa forest, living in the portion of historically ponderosa dominate forest. But because of historical thinning and logging operations in the area, dry and heat hardy species like juniper and oak have already been given a leg up.

Even while the stump sprouts of oak and juniper may lead to a more fire prone zone in the future in creating bushier oaks and juniper, the sprouts reveal the undeniable fact. In just two months time oak, juniper, agave and yucca have sprung anew as the ponderosa lag behind. Life, is an unstoppable force, pervading even our most human-beaten down pieces of earth. What I thought I might feel versus what I ended up feeling walking through these burned zones, was somewhat of a surprise.

In seeing these sprouts, I could feel the light I have carried in my heart intensify. It was very much the same sense I feel when I see weeds emerge from the cracks of concrete. Something I have always trusted in… The eternal nature of Gaia.

While my sadness surrounding the loss of this forest accounts for my unshakeable love for the natural ground beneath my feet; the fact that I so desperately want there to be a ponderosa forest again where I stand, doesn’t matter. That is what I want, or wish to there to be. But we cannot impose our wants so strictly onto Nature. For she will always dictate the course of her will to thrive. And of course this in no way downgrades the dismally destructive actions taken on behalf of the Bureau of Land Management.

While I am still grieving the loss of many of our trees, I find nourishment in the signs of emerging hope all around. The feature photo beautifully captures that hope. It is of a sprout at the base of one of our largest silver-leaf oaks. The bright green sprout against the deeply blackened mother oak shines with a light all its own against the scorched forest in the background. It is Gaia reminding me that all will be okay.

While living on our land, I will of course continue to support and encourage the growth of the historic ponderosa forest. But in areas beyond our scope, Nature will decide what colors of species she will paint across the blackened canvas, whether it is a ponderosa or juniper-oak forest, the spirit of the forest is eternal.

Nature will always prevail.