The Phoenix
THE PHOENIXFor more than ten years, I lived at the top of a timbered mountain, overlooking two blink-your-eye-and-miss-them towns. With a view of Mt. Shasta and beauty as far as the hawk could see, I felt at home. I worked hard and was taught many lessons by the land. Like most of the people in the area, I had built a home made of sweat, blood, hopes and tears, grown livestock and enough vegetables to eat and sell. Finally, I had all those material things I wanted.
On that first day, a fire ball exploded above my home. Trees were 'crowning' and going off like bombs. I was forced to flee for my life, leaving house, cars, possessions, and animals to burn.
 When the fires had calmed, we tried to heal the pain and rebuild our dreams. Some people could not bear to stay, some could not bear to leave. I was one of the ones who stayed; a good friend, who now is the love of my life, also stayed. It became a common sight to see new cookie-cutter homes going up where homes with real character had once stood. One day, as I was driving into town, I passed by one of these homes, and found myself slamming on the brakes. The owner had painted it a bright red, purple and gold! I went to the door and knocked because I just had to know what possessed her to do such a thing. She answered the door and smiled at my shocked question. She said, "It is the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Our rebirth!" I never wanted to paint my house those colors but I sure thought about the idea behind it, during many struggles since.
|
|
