It is so weird to see nature re-shape places you know and love. When I hear of fires in these oddly beautiful places it have a physical reaction.
I was born in Idaho, was raised all over the country and then returned as an adult to teach and then learn to be a lawyer. I am "from" Idaho in many ways but mostly in my love for its beauty.
It took me lots of year to fall in love with the high desert. To look out over the dry sagebrush covered hills and wonder at the majesty of the antelope or coyote or the jack rabbits or the burrowing owls. It took me a long time to bond with it.
It is breaking my heart to watch it burn. Lots are worried about the houses. I worry about them but also the rest of what makes it a place to put the houses. The gently sculpted hills covered with the remains of the volcanic explosions sage brush, dozens and dozens of different kinds of sage brush.
It is now burning the childhood hills of my mom. She roamed the hills hunting for rattle snakes and other such treasures. Grampa hunted for gold and deer and elk and fish and time with his family.
While I look on and wonder and ask why, I know fire is part of what makes it re-grow and regenerate. It is sort of like loping off parts of a tree. It will come back with great vigor.
Here is to the sage covered hills of Idaho.