I watched this mountain bluebird perch on the peak of my brother’s home, guarding a nest under the eaves. Take my word for it: what this bird sees looking off Green Mountain, across a reservoir and up to snowy Long’s Peak is breath-taking. For the better part of a morning, my back was turned to all this magnificence. Instead, I played with my husband’s new camera and decided to concentrate and practice on the little things. That was in May.
I wonder where the bluebird is now. There is a wildfire on Green Mountain today according to the news. Helicopters and fire fighters compete with heavy smoke and roaring orange flames. I watch posted videos of what’s going on in these Loveland foothills to the Rockies. A phone call to my sister-in-law says that they were able to evacuate their cat, Mo; that they found their neighbors safe at the local shelter, that they are grateful for the hard-working and determined fire fighters but wanted them to stay safe; that after all is said and done, it is only a house…not a life.
It’s not even my home, but I love the place for the cherished, but too infrequent (1600 miles away), family gatherings that it has embraced: conversations, meals, rest and mountain walks. And then I begin to recognize the smallness of my concerned gaze. The news reported 160 homes burned in a Boulder wildfire only a few days ago, and I hardly blinked an eye. But today, because the new wildfire 30 miles up the Colorado road affects those I know, I can’t stay off the internet and have a hard time concentrating on my work.
I wonder how many disasters and tragedies around the earth fall under God’s gaze at the moment. It boggles my mind. In the end, God’s global vision and my sister-in-law’s graciousness open up my prayer tonight. I don’t just pray frantically that their mountain home is spared. I also thank God that Mo was rescued, that neighbors are safe, that wild creatures will find shelter, that neighbors become better friends, that folks shift priorities from place to people, that fear turns to sharing, that human foolishness (which may have caused the fire) is somehow redeemed, that workers remain safe, that people’s trust in God may grow through the challenge, that the gift of God’s creation is valued even more tenaciously, and…well, you know me by now…may the bluebirds find a safe home.
While Green Mountain is still burning, that’s the watchful view from my new-found perch…at least until I can see more clearly.
Trix's Mix says
What an amazing environment you described here! And I am grateful with you!