August 20, 2023 Through the Smoke

I stood at the top of my road and stared at the raging flames in the distance. A deep pit hung inside and I turned to my wife and friends that were sharing the apocalyptic view. 

“It’s like a warzone.”

I’m not sure who made the comment, it may have been me. It didn’t matter, we all agreed, it was a war—a war against the rages of nature. A war until now our brave firefighters had been losing. 

But the winds died down and the flames burned out. The firefighters began to push back. There was hope that we could win the battles. Even though the war could not be won, our beautiful valley will be forever scarred by the events of August 2023.

Two years earlier there was a fire on the mountains in the other direction, a fire that destroyed my friend’s home. When we watched those flames we never felt the same apprehension, never felt the same fear. Yet this somehow felt different.

We hoped we were safe from the fires burning on the mountains above our home. Our homes were hopefully protected by orchards and roads, we were the lucky ones. Thousands of others were not so lucky, they were forced to hunker down and stay in temporary housing far from their own beds. 

The next morning, I awoke to the omnipresent smoke in the air. Ashes rained down on us while we heard the drone of helicopters in the distance. My eyes burned with the incessant fumes. We felt safe enough to venture out and check to see if we could get a little closer to the raging fires above. We wanted to find out how far away the fires were, and how much danger we were in. We went to my friend’s place and retrieved my motorcycle from where I’d parked it for safety away from the fires.

I pulled up to a checkpoint where a police officer stood next to his car blocking the road. It was only a couple of blocks from my street. 

The officer walked up to me, a look of curiosity on his face. Before he could speak I told him what was on my mind. “I live over there,” I pointed toward my house. “The evacuation alert area on the map says it ends here, but other times it is the evacuation order and then it changes. Can you tell me where it is now? And do you know where the fire is?”

“I’m not from here,” The cop began, “But the road we’re on is the border. So anything up the mountain that way,” He pointed to his left, “Is under evacuation order, and everything over here to that road is under evacuation alert. But things can change fast. That’s why the map keeps changing.” 

“Thanks, officer, and thanks for all you do.” I took a deep breath and frowned, “Do you know where the fire is now?”

“As I said, I’m not from here and don’t know the area.” He shrugged, “I haven’t even been able to see anything because of the smoke. I don’t know where it is, but the wind is blowing a bit towards us so best to be prepared to go.”

At that moment another car pulled up to the checkpoint. “Thanks again, and thanks for being here. Take care.” I smiled and drove off.

I decided to follow the road along the boundary of the evacuation zone to see if I could get a view of the mountain we watched burn the night before. I turned up Old Okanagan Hiway, optimistic that the road was still open to that point. I glanced up toward the hills and noticed there was no smoke and no fires within my view. Another checkpoint loomed in front of me. This time it was a West Kelowna By-Law officer. 

“Hi, I just live a short way away and wondered where the fire was,” I spoke before he had the chance to ask me what I wanted. 

“It isn’t far, but they seem to have a handle on it…” He frowned, shrugged “But you never know.” 

“Thanks for being here, thanks for the info.” I peered into the smokey sky and saw that the mountain we’d seen burning the night before was clear, there was a bit of smoke smoldering but the fires appeared to be extinguished. I let out a sigh of relief and pulled away.

I saw another checkpoint and a cop manning the barrier. I decided to pull up and see if he had any more information. 

“How can I help?” He asked as I pulled up.

“You are already helping, just by being here. I’m sure it can’t be easy.” I replied uncertain what more to say. “Is this the evacuation order boundary?” The city dump was just behind his patrol vehicle and so were several other homes.

“Yes, it begins just over there. Thankfully the wind isn’t blowing and the firemen are gaining ground. I’m one of the lucky ones manning this post. The ones doing the hard work are the firefighters and the officers going into the evacuation order zones.” 

“I can’t imagine…”

“I can’t either, and then there are the ones who ignore the orders and put our members at risk.” The cop shook his head and narrowed his eyes.

“Really?”

“Ya, earlier today some people refused to leave their homes and our members had to go and rescue them. Pisses me off that people can be so ignorant. They didn’t leave until their house was on fire and our members went in to save them.” He stared back at the smoke-filled skies and shook his head, “Like I say my job is easy.”

“Thanks for being here and doing your job. We appreciate all the work the first responders are doing.” I smiled at him and waved as I pulled away. My body churned with anger and frustration at anyone who would endanger themselves and the first responders there to save them from their own stupidity.

When I drove up my street I couldn’t see anything but the deep grey of the smoked filled sky. The feeling of being caught in an apocalypse crawled through my veins. The amazing summer we’d had felt like a distant memory. Feelings of relief mixed with a sense of dread as I parked in front of my home. We were lucky that the fires were far enough away that we didn’t have to flee with our most valued possessions. 

Now there is nothing to do but wait and hope the winds don’t erupt and the brave firefighters can win the next battle. And all the battles yet to come.

I said a silent prayer to mother nature.

Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain.