Fire

Ben Garver, Berkshire Eagle

We hadn’t had a good rain in weeks.  A drought was declared.  Then a severe drought, along with a burn ban. The long lovely stretch of mild weather turned ominous. Leaves rustled in the underbrush, and then were swept up in a frenzied dance by the breeze. The sky remained an unrelenting blue. Fires were breaking out in the Hudson Valley, the smoke drifting north.  But it wouldn’t happen here, we told ourselves. We’d never had a wild fire in the 30 years we’ve lived in the area, and besides the meteorologists claimed the Berkshires were getting wetter and warmer with climate change.

On Tuesday morning, at our regular gas station in Great Barrington, I looked up and saw a cloud of smoke billowing along the side of East Mountain, its underbelly orange with reflected flames.  There’s something so mesmerizing about fire.  Suddenly, I realized how many other people were standing there, errands forgotten, car doors left open. We were all staring up, stricken by this sheer force of nature that would, even with 120 firefighters working to contain it, eventually spread across 1,200 acres. Despite a steady rain, the fire will, according to the authorities, continue to smolder on into the winter. Like desire, as Frost would have it, which rhymes so beautifully.

Fire and Ice
by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.