A few weeks ago I wrote a poem titled "for now the mountain burns," and later I went to the place where the mountain burned. But I did not see destruction. I saw beauty. Yes, there were swaths of charred land, black scars on the peak, but there was also an incredible amount of green. Flowers and fiddleheads poked out of the ashes, and trees leafed out where days before flames had blossomed.
It is amazing how something so devastating can give way to so much life.