Wildfire, Hellfire: the Case for Siberian Globeflowers

I.

 

My home was on fire.

Wildfires came with vengeance in late July, engulfed the forest and turned it to cinders.

It is a place with a long memory: centenarian pines reached to the skies, mantled the mountain’s spine like a rustling shroud, deep-green, dark-green, emerald-green. In winter, they covered themselves with sparkling white, thick and noble. . . .