Yesterday's Reprieve

 

Yesterday, we drove up to Lake Almanor in Plumas County. I have many cherished memories of that place because I used to take my three sons camping there during the summer. The 2021 Dixie Fire was a massive wildfire that affected Butte, Plumas, Lassen, Shasta, and Tehama counties in Northern California, burning an area of 963,309 acres. The fire began on July 13 and wasn't fully contained until October 25 of that year.  This was my first time back in the area since the fire.

Yesterday's forecast

We had a good reason to get out of Dodge– the sweltering heat was descending upon our town. The thought of basking in temperatures that felt like an oven was unbearable, and we just didn't want to sit inside all day. So, with spontaneity bubbling within me, I suggested we set off on a short journey, just an hour away, to find a refreshing escape. The promise of cooler air and serene landscapes nourishes my soul. 

The lake was brimming with water, a delightful sight that is always good to see. 

No black sand beaches here!  I remember those days when I would take the boys, and we would wade out into the frigid waters to swim.  The journey out was never without its challenges; we had to navigate a rugged path of sharp volcanic rocks beneath our feet. With each step, the discomfort was undeniable—ouch, ouch, ouch! But those moments, with laughter and splashes all around. We got used to it; we wore our tennis shoes and then tossed them onto the beach. There had to be someone we left behind to throw back our shoes or flip-flops, or else we would have to endure that discomfort repeatedly.

What a great idea for the little ones—someone made them their very own wading pool! There's nothing quite like that fresh pine aroma! We enjoyed listening to the wind rustling through the tall ponderosa pines and hearing the sounds of various types of waterfowl around the lake. 

The beach area had a thick mat of pine needles and scattered pinecones, remnants of a healthy winter. Soon, the primitive shoreline will have been combed through by a parade of sun-seekers and adventurers. The volcanic rocks in the water are there forever! Thanks to Mt Lassen. 

In the valley, the air is thick with the DRY HEAT of summer, yet the mountains remain cloaked in the gentle embrace of a warm spring.  I believe there was a 20-degree difference. Vibrant daffodils and spring flowers that have been absent from my surroundings since March were seen in the town of Chester. 

It was a beautiful Saturday on the way back down to the valley, and there were not many vehicles on the roads. This is the lower southside of the Shasta Cascades. Mt Lassen is still closed due to snow clearing.  Probably by mid-June, the highway through the park will be fully open, and we'll take our customary drive through - something we traditionally do every year, just to see how things are. 

I was surprised that the area was not as devastated as I had anticipated. Most of the burn scars from the Dixie Fire were located in the rugged, hard-to-reach corners of the wilderness. Scattered here and there were patches of charred earth, yet amidst the desolation, I noticed vibrant new growth emerging, a testament to nature’s resilience.

Driving through a few small towns with populations of less than 200, I could clearly see how the dedicated efforts of firefighters had successfully shielded these communities from the flames. While some cabins and homes stood surrounded by blackened trees, miraculously, the structures themselves remained intact. It’s remarkable work by our Cal Fire and Forestry teams. Their precision and commitment are nothing short of extraordinary. God bless them for their bravery and dedication.

It's sad to see -  this particular area where the mountaintops appeared as nothing more than jagged, spiky peaks, standing defiantly against the sky. Sprinkled under them and around them is new growth. In about 10 years, Lord willing, it will look like a forest again. 

As we went up the winding road up the mountain, a particularly intriguing sight caught our eye. We decided to explore it further on our way back down. 

There was no hint of a plague - nothing. Instead, it stood silent.

While stopped, I noticed this tree - 

This farmland caught my eye...

We're getting closer to home now...

Who doesn't love the look of an old outbuilding

As we approach the bend, the familiar landscape unfolds - a picturesque valley adorned with oaks and golden grasses that sway gently in the breeze.

Beside the road, you can see the bluffs. I was in the car while my husband drove. Unfortunately, there was no safe place to stop for a better photo.

Hwy 36 near Red Bluff

Today brought a refreshing coolness that I truly appreciate. Although it’s tempting to complain about the heat, I know that grumbling only amplifies the discomfort. Instead, I’ll savor yesterday's reprieve.

On to Monday...