by Becca Fresco

My parents and my family have evacuated our homes in our beautiful little river valley in the Santa Cruz Mountains which is now smoke-filled and burning.  

The last things I did before leaving was fill the hummingbird feeder.

Some friends have already lost their homes and the fire is 0% contained. It's only spreading and growing.  It's not looking good.

But why should we be spared? This is a global issue: the Amazon has burned, Australia has burned, Canada has burned. People flee much worse situations, war, famine.  

It's our turn. I think we all get one.

The preparation for this new normal, catastrophe upon catastrophe, emergency layered upon emergency, is NOT to hoard, to escape or to harden, not to other, to blame, to shame, to fight, or to hate.

What's clear to me from this hazy, heavy, grief-filled moment is the essential imperative that we move with grace and dignity, to weep for what we love, to ground even as we are displaced and uprooted so that we do not transplant in a reaction, and do not perpetuate the same type of living that has caused this situation in the first place.

If we want things to change then we must move our bodies differently, act differently, speak differently; become courteous, kind, protective of the earth. We must commit to a place and learn the song and language and seed and plants and animals that bloom that place into existence.

Grief is a good place to start, and remember, grief can only truly be metabolized when witnessed! Find your people that won't try to fix you or make you feel better and let yourself be held in tears so we may water these ashes into a once again life-giving ground that our children will want to live in.