When beauty is a warning

I was stopped from reaching my vacation rental a couple weeks ago as a growing wildfire reached the main artery through Eastern Oregon. Twenty miles from my destination, a barrier with cones and a sign read, ROAD CLOSED. Parking in a gravel lot in the small town of Weston, a crew began to assemble of fellow vacationers. After a bit of discussion, half decided to venture forward around the sign, as the rest turned to head elsewhere. My group decided on Walla Walla, Washington, a city that had grown up in the wine industry while developing an interesting downtown strip around the large brick hotel my mother stayed in as a child. The surrounding atmosphere continued to be plagued by the ever-present smoke hanging like a reaper, inflicting the occasional cough even in our room. Though, it was in the farmland just outside of town that left its indelible mark on my memory. A low-hanging sun projected a wonderful, artistic, deep orange through purple color-wheel over a grove of crowded trees. I pulled off to take a photo and reflect on the scene a few moments. It was indeed beautiful, but it also seemed to be a warning for those choosing to continue consuming well beyond their needs. I’ve seen the overstuffed garages on walks, overflowing trashcans, and the piles of Christmas gifts sitting under living room trees. We need to shake loose of such thinking if we are to counter violent future weather and promote a healthier future. It bothers me that many can’t seem to get past the pretty pictures a fire smoke sky can provide.