Song of the day: “Irish Son” by Brian Mcfadden. Lovely song, though why I’d have it in my head is a mystery to me. Maybe it came past on my Itunes yesterday evening when I went to bed.
So there was a wee bit excitement yesterday.
I say a wee bit, because even though I wish I had some heroic story to tell about, it basically was just a relatively small wild fire on the mountain. I mean seriously, what could have been better to write about than bravely fighting the flames with our bare hands, saving a hapless damsel in distress, or some such, keeping the fire away from the house with back breaking work…but alas, it all was all quite harmless in the end.
Here’s what happened:
Big brother and I were, calm as you please, sitting on the terrace editing (going rather splendidly, I might add, we did 12 pages) when suddenly a helicopter came thundering overhead. Now, on any given day this is not much of an event, but five minutes later another one comes across the property, (no higher than twenty yards over our heads) and this one is hauling along one of those big orange bags filled with water.
This, of course screams FIRE ‘round these parts, so we get up to see where the heck it’s headed.
Turns out it is going right over the slope on our left where this massive brown plume of smoke is towering high into the air. Now, I blame the poplar, eucalyptus and acacia for obstructing our view so much that we didn’t notice the mess going on until it was this big.
Crap, the siren started to howl again right now, (the friggin’ thing drove me and the dogs bonkers all day yesterday) and from the moment I started writing my blog a chopper is flying over again with one of those water bags underneath it. Darn it! I wonder what’s going on now?
But anyway, back to yesterday:
Chopper number three arrived by that time and a small fire-department plane was circling overhead…you know, when we discover the smoke.
With horror images of 2001 (and the big evacuation) in our minds, big brother sound the proverbial alarm and head for the car to check out the location where the smoke originates from and to our shock discover that it is actually the exact same location as eight years ago. What are the chances of that, I wonder?
At least four acres have already lit up (luckily there is relatively little to burn since 01 already took down most of the pine woods overhead), the main road is closed off because it leads right through the core of the fire, firemen are on the ridges slapping at the flames and chopper #4 and 5 arrive. Two of those big freighter types, and one has a bad exhaust because every rotation sounded like a tiny explosion. Jeez.
Having found the location…less than a mile from home, mind you…I made a 180 in the middle of the road, under the watchful eyes of the stoic looking Guardia civil, and head back home where dogs and humans are waiting impatiently for our return. What with the memories of ’01 and our determination not (and inability) to leave with our pack (last time we had to rent a moving truck to get the task done) we start preparations of filling every single bucket in the house.
Buckets, bathtubs, the pool and everything else that will hold liquid, get filled and put in strategic places, the same goes for fire extinguishers and heavy cloth blankets, just in case the fire department loses the battle. Two more helicopters and a big water plane arrive to battle the ongoing sea of flames. There’s a lot to be said about the local authorities but they do not slack when there’s a fire, the fire department kicks butt!
Once all the preparations were made, we kept a weary eye on the progress and resumed the daily projects and chores. With one eye on the mountain ridge…yes there were some very nice Hollywood images and yes, I took pictures (just haven’t loaded them up yet)…big brother and I worked on the water well by the small gate, occasionally stopping to see a steady decrease in the amount of smoke.
When the well was done, we headed to the carport to build a small wall behind where grandpa wished to create storage space. By the time dusk approached the air traffic calmed down a bit, only three were going back and forth with the bags in the setting sun.
After watering the plants in the last bit of daylight, luckily the water wasn’t turned off this time, big brother and I headed inside for dinner and doing some more editing in the office. The only difference today was that instead of heading to our respective bedrooms around midnight, we headed out in the car to check out how it was going. Sure the helicopters had stopped around nightfall, but the fire trucks and everything were still howling nearby.
Turns out the volunteer firemen were standing on watch just around the curb, and we weren’t allowed to drive through the area yet, so they kept a close eye on the area during the night. By now they are still flying one helicopter back and forth, probably tackling the persistent hearths, but otherwise the only indication that anything was wrong is the persistent smell of fire in the air.
A nasty thing about this relatively harmless fire is that we lost one of our dogs. Vara was a golden retriever, about ten years old, and we think that all the excitement got to be too much for him. We found him lying in the living room, pretty much as if he’d fallen asleep and just didn’t wake up again. Poor Vara, we buried him this morning and comfort ourselves with the knowledge that he had a good life with his big brother Nata…I do hope that the latter won’t feel the loss too badly. I know that Gada mourned for at least two weeks when her best pal Yadzia passed away.
All in all the dogs behaved well during the mess of the day. They weren’t as noisy as I’d expected them to be with the ongoing noise of helicopters and planes thundering overhead. To them it was just another day, I’m guessing.
So all’s well that ends well…unless of course the fire that is still persisting blazes up again today, grrrr…no harm done to our beautiful yard and house. Seriously, I was already going over emergency scenarios of which trees we’d have to take down, where we’d have to drench in order to save the property. All was, thankfully, for naught however, and by the time we went to bed the events were already fading in our minds.
Well, that about sums it all up, I guess. This morning was spent using a blowtorch (of all things) on the basin walls for me. Yes, grandpa bought a new one for me, since the old one blew up on my hands a few weeks ago. Hah.
It was the plan for me to do it yesterday, but in light of the blazing wild fire, we figured it would be sorta like tempting fate, hah.
I’ve gotta go. I’ll be back…that is, if the fire doesn’t return to burn me alive, or something like that. *snort*…just kidding, I’ll be back.
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