Monday morning I was in town and saw on the front page of our small town newspaper a picture of the street I used to work on engulfed in flames.
Tuesday's news brought devastation as the communities of Crest and Descanso were burned.
Thursday morning brought even more sad news. The park where I used to be a docent, where I knew every hiking trail, and where I met my husband, burned to the ground--all 26,000 acres of trees and wildlife.
I look at the picture I now have on my refrigerator of DH and I taken by friends and realize it's priceless. In the picture, the four of us (DH, myself, and another couple), were getting ready to take a hike in Cuyamaca and the trees were beautiful. There was a little bit of snow on the ground in front of us. It saddens me to think this is no more.
San Diego, among its "warts", had an amzaing diversity--you could dabble your toes in the sand on the beach and with a change of clothes and a one hour or so drive, you could be in the snow, either hiking or playing in it.
The most amazing thing about Cuyamaca Park was that it was FREE. Whether you wanted to ride a mountain bike, a horse, hike a trail, or just picnic, there were no fees. It was all free and uncrowded; unlike the beaches.
Many people, like myself, looked forward to the weekend where they would take that scenic mountain drive and end up at the Park's headquarters to obtain a map before starting out on their trek. Just walking in the 200+ year old trees and being a part of nature put life back in perspective--"rewound your clock", so to speak.
Many times DH and I wanted to live there; little did we know we would move all the way to Pennsylvania to be in mountains and trees. City life for us was closing in on us and pressing us to the limits of our patience.
I think of the Park rangers, many with young children, who lost their homes. Their lives were dedicated to preserving the Park. To hear them talk about subjects such as plant life and animals you could see it touched them deeply. And all their training they received from the Park.
The biggest loss, next to lives, I feel, was the museum at the Park headquarters. Where else could you go into a local museum for free? It was a learning museum where the exhibits were lifelike with taxidermied bobcats, owls, and even a mountain lion with her kit. Upstairs held reference material and priceless books bearing the history of the Park and early San Diego, and the Native American tribe, the Kumeyaay, who used to traverse between the desert to the east and back to the mountains, depending on the season. There was even a book written by a Kumeyaay woman who told of life on a reservation after the "White Man" came. Homes are replaceable; history, like lives, is not.
Although I left San Diego a little over a year ago, I always thought the Park would be there for others to enjoy; I enjoyed it my whole life I was there. It was San Diego's "Best Kept Secret", and for me a much better alternative than going to the beach. San Diego will not be the same.
It would somehow be easier to accept if this were a natural disaster, but to think of the foolhardiness of some individual who lit a signal flare during the middle of the Santa Ana season because he got lost shows stupidity at its highest level. I am angry, certainly not as angry as those who lost their homes, loved ones, or the Park rangers, but I will get over it.
Thanks for listening.