Yesterday afternoon, on the way home from Sebastopol, I was stuck in a long train of traffic behind a pickup with a fifth wheel. Not uncommon on the weekends, when the tourist hordes are out in force on my roads. But this time my anxiety was compounded by the smoke I could see in the distance. With every curve in the road, it seemed to be in a different direction. But as we got closer, it was obvious that the smoke was indeed coming from the Bodega area. And it was getting worse.

When I got into town, the smoke was pouring over the hill near the cemetery. Traffic was being turned back. I stopped, as I’d planned, to get lunch at the Bodega Land Trust BLT fundraiser. I learned that the fire was near the turnoff from Route 1, and/or near the trout ranch, and that it had jumped Route 1.

I got my BLT to go, even though no one in town seemed particularly concerned. The light was weird and polarized as I drove up the hill towards home. Laika came out from under P’s porch, looked at the car carefully, and when she was sure it was me, macaroni-danced her way over, nearly leaping in the front seat with me when I opened the door.

The smoke was building and the air was full of planes and helicopters. The fire was about a mile or mile-and-a-half from our place. I took my BLT out to my garden sitting area and settled in to watch the show…not without some level of base instinctual fear, but certain that we were safe for the time being.

Here’s a short video:

It was interesting to watch the aerial fire fight. Those guys are crazy; thank god we have them. The planes spread a bright pink-read substance, and the helicopters seemed to be carrying bags of water to release on the sight. I later learned that they’d been dipping into the ponds at the trout ranch. (Fish fry? Ok, I know, that’s terrible.) I also learned that a local firefighter was seriously injured. He is well-liked around town and by folks on the ranch, and is in everyone’s prayers.

This morning, the goats were quite skittish during milking time. Usually they just walk into the holding pen, but this morning they balked. Then, once I had most of them in, they stampeded out. On the milk line, they fussed at their grain but didn’t eat much and had no interest in hanging around the barn. Strange behavior indeed!

Of course in a situation like this, my thoughts turn to “what if”…what if there was a fire here? What would I need to do, how should I be prepared? I thought about making a “bug out bag”, but honestly the only thing I want are my animals and my computer, neither of which are packable in advance.

I confirmed one thing with Jordan: open the gates, and maybe even shoo the goats out. Honestly, I’m not sure how much that would matter; the whole ranch is fenced in except for the end of the driveway. And here’s the thing: we live near the top of a ridge, looking downhill to the southwest. If there’s a fire, it’s going to be heading up our driveway and road. In other words, we’re fucked. Our best strategy may be to get over the fence to the neighbor’s house, and hope we can get down their driveway on the other side on foot. Or go stand in the pond and wait it out.

The experience also made me think from a permaculture standpoint; I realized the wisdom of sitting on the land for a year before making any changes. I hadn’t considered the fire danger much before. Now it seems all too present. Tonight our sunset was colored orange from the haze that hung in the air all day.

I’m grateful to the firefighters who put out the fire before it roared into the town of Bodega…or further.

There are dramatic photos here on facebook, courtesy of the local paper.

Oh, and our all-volunteer fire department is having a Polenta and Beef Stew Dinner on Saturday, October 9th. Come out and join me…you can bet that’s where I’ll be eating that day!