[at-l] Smoke in the Air

[Ern and Anneke Grover <ern-anneke@juno.com>]

Church was great this morning, but to be honest, my stomach was grumbling
all during the sermon.  It was a good thing there were a few "amens" to
drown out my hungry stomach.

On the way home I asked Anneke, "Shall I make brunch?"

"Go for it!" she replied in her broken accent.  She's so cute when using
American slang with a Dutch accent.

Sunday's are special, and they are "laid-back" days for us.  It's a time
to have a second breakfast, take a nap, perhaps a walk, and maybe go out
for an ice cream.

After we had brunch (scrambled eggs, bacon, English muffins, and coffee),
Anneke puttered in the garden.  I found a good book to read, but I soon
fell asleep in the recliner.  When she came in, she announced she wanted
to go to Wally-World to look at "dead and neglected" plants.  

We headed out, arrived in a few minutes, but they had little to offer. 
She brought back some tulip bulbs for fall planting, and I got some
hardware items.  I hate shopping!

Back home, I made a quick cup of Cappuccino for each of us.  The
neighborhood was unusually quiet as we sat on the deck sipping on the
brew.  Buddy was on her leash under the oak tree and begged to come up on
the deck to be a nuisance.  She must have thought we were eating
something.

I changed my shoes, grabbed the least and my "ugly stick".  I carry a
broken shovel handle with me when I go walking in order to protect Buddy
and myself from loose dogs in the neighborhood.  Fortunately I've not had
to use it but once, and then I only had to wave it in the air.  The
intruder soon fled in the opposite direction.

We were almost at the edge of the woods where the path to Beaver Hill
cuts through several acres of uninhabited woods.  Buddy stopped, then I
also smelled it.  Smoke was in the air coming from the direction of the
pathway ahead of us.  Within a minute we came upon four fires ablaze near
a large boulder.  Leaves were burning and the flames were visible.  I'm
not saying it was an "out of control" situation, but with the wind
beginning to pick up, it would soon be a problem.

1947 was the year of my birth, and it was also the year Maine lost
millions of acres of timberland during a long dry summer.  Three counties
in southern Maine were virtually destroyed by that tragic fire. 
Thousands were homeless.  When spring came, hardwood seeds sprouted
everywhere because of the fire of the previous season.  Southern Maine
now has hardwood forest as being predominant.

I retreated to the closest house, but no one was home.  The doors were
open, the garage was open, but I didn't take the liberty to trespass. 
Instead I went to the next neighbor.  Lin Sam and his wife, a Cambodian
couple, were home.  In my best Cambodian (I'm really kidding here), I
asked him for some water and buckets.  He also smelled the smoke.  Soon
we were running in the direction of the fire with four 5-gallon buckets
of water.

The growing flames were soon quenched, but I was amazed at how quickly
the fire had spread.  Whoever started the four fires on and around the
boulder certainly didn't realize the dangerous forest floor conditions. 
Two of the fires were actually intentionally started on two flat spots on
the large boulder.  We didn't have enough water to douse the other three
areas, but the largest fire was extinguished.  We decided, then and
there, that we should phone the fire department and let them do their
job.

They arrived within minutes with Forest 1, and they began digging around
the perimeter of the boulder to check for underground burning.  One of
the firemen reeled out the tanker hose and arrived at the scene.  As he
poured the water around the area, steam rose from the hot earth. 
Apparently our efforts were sufficient to dampen the spirits of the
surface flames, but the dry peat-like earth beneath was ripe tinder for a
serious fire.

From the outset, it didn't look like a very serious scenario.  However,
with the wind picking up, it could have turned to become a nasty
situation.  It wouldn't have taken very long for the dry tinder and
debris to flame up quickly with the right conditions.

So our day wasn't uneventful.  Buddy returned to beneath the oak tree to
resume her dreams of chasing the butcher truck and all her doggie
friends.  I returned to the recliner and fell asleep again with my book.

I guess my suggestion to the list members would be to exercise extreme
caution in the woods of New England.


Ern Grover "Sweeter-Rain"
Father & Son Clockworks (207) 490-3500
26 Webster Street, Springvale, ME  04083
http://www.ticktock.bizhosting.com
"The highest form of ignorance is when you reject something you don't
know anything about."
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