of southern california

i saw wildfire baptize southern californian bush last summer. 

after it stripped off the land’s white robes, the wildfire disturbed the still and deep waters and leapt from yucca to yucca in a rolling front of resumption. languorous at first, then lithe, fire licked the ends of thirsty stalks. what will their death render legible? what religion will their husks learn from ashy hills and empirically similar corpses? not all burning is the same. some burn to extinguish; others burn to become; southern california burns to be. 

every spark and curl glinted copper cannabis. each dive and burst shone sepia. o what consecration in flame. i watched the fire swim around its subject, holding it under the surface until it sputtered and gasped for relief. i felt the desperation for a savior become as palpable as hot smoke in these natural cathedrals. but their penitence continued though the land was made holy by fire. 

brush emerged when it was cleansed. i saw only desert. i knew desolation then. i watched the santa ana winds come rushing out hot, still blustery and arid. they beat the choking country dry with salvation and forgiveness, and i spat at this land’s incompetence to hold its breath.