How Long?

Black Lake, NM

 

This view welcomed me home in my traveling days with art fairs. This was my view as I emerged from Guadalupita canyon, home of Coyote Creek, and I am sorry to say I do not know this mile marker. I always know mile markers. I was the navigator when my family traveled. I had a notebook and kept important notes. Maybe not always for my family but important for me.

Other kids had to memorize their address and telephone number incase they got lost but in the beginning for me, living in the Missouri countryside or the a New Mexico air base it was the turns I would have to make to get home or my father's name, rank and serial number. I discovered when accidently abandoned outside of Liberal, Kansas during a trip at Christmas the license plate number was important. The highway patrol officer was impressed.

Also important for me when we traveled about the country was how long. How long would we be at this base, this camp, this trip, this school. When I moved to Black Lake I wanted to be there the rest of my life. I was done with moving. I had done too much of that. So once in Black Lake I only did "vacations" or fairs or short trips. So as I have packed up to evacuate if I must I performed my assignment but with tears and tried to avoid the question, "How long?"

The Hermit's Peak/Calf Canyon Wildfire complex now sits uneasily at the base of Black Lake. It is threatening to crest that hill at the end of my valley. It has been creeping along the 36.843 mile state highway 434 since middle of April early April. It is at approximately MM 8 and I am at MM 29. I have been studying the maps because they contain so many names where my family hiked, fished or camped. I know all the little towns that are being evacuated. Now I am on SET to be evacuated. My Explorer is packed with all but my camera, my dog and my cat.

Last night the critical question finally popped into my brain: How Long? And if I leave will I ever get to come back? Will I ever see Black Lake again? I have been giving shelter to a Mora friend and her family. I have tried to bolster their spirits. They are at times like trapped animals roaming a cage looking for escape back to their home. Like me they have lived other places. And like me they are deeply rooted to this part of New Mexico. They are afraid they will never get back to their home. 

I do not want to leave here for fear I will never get back. All the rational and reassuring things I have told them about this process have vanished. I know now the total terror of those who would not leave their homes during Katrina.

A friend asked me yesterday if I was taking my orchids. It was such a silly question. How do I put twenty orchids in an Explorer with a cat, a dog, the important proof of my life, clothes . . . clothes for how long? Nobody answers that question. Can I take my sewing machine and material, my paints (I did pack sketchbook and pens). And of course the camera comes. . . the peonies are coming up. And the iris look so healthy. An the trees look so good all pruned up to be firewise.

Maybe I won't go.