Tame the Flames A story from the life of Jessica Marie It was a cool August afternoon out on the lake in my kayak with my little dog Holmes. He was perched on the front of the kayak, sitting atop my life vest. The lake was fairly calm, the occasional strong breeze would push me in a direction I hadn’t quite planned to go. But it was otherwise fairly smooth going. I paddled by a rock marker. I stopped paddling and peered over the edge, like I always did when I paddled over a hazard marker, trying to catch a glimpse of the boulder just beneath the surface. It was massive and only a few feet from the surface of the lake. A larger boat could damage their bottom or propellers if they passed over this rock. I couldn’t begin to imagine how large this boulder must be. I was a fair distance off shore, the water here was deep. Considering at 5 feet and less I could easily see the bottom, here the water was dark and murky, showing no bottom to its depths. But this rock somehow stretched from the unknowable depths of the lake to be mere inches from the surface. I looked in awe of the rock and felt perturbed by the murky depths of the lake. Even knowing it is devoid of any predators or other hazards, my mind often creates flashes of danger in place of any real threats. I looked up from the rock and across the lake. My ceasing to paddle had stopped my momentum and I was now simply floating. The aforementioned breeze had slowly spun my kayak to face the direction from which I had come. I gazed across the overcast waters to see a plume of smoke rising into the air from the opposite shore. I followed the plume to its source. Orange lapping flames taller than the hundreds of cabins that dotted the lake front. A cabin had caught fire. I quickly pulled my cell phone from my pocket. The lake was typically devoid of cell signal, but to my surprise I had one bar. I dialed 911. I could hear someone on shore in a nearby cabin on the phone with 911 as well. Sound carries well and easily over water. The aflame cabin was near the marina. I hung up the phone with the fire department and began to paddle towards the fire. Wary of getting too close as most homes used propane for heat and cooking. Should that tank explode, the blast and shrapnel could be deadly. From several football fields away, I watched the flames lap at the cottage and slowly ignite the cottage beside it. The backside or the backyard must have ignited the blaze as the cottages themselves showed no sign of fire from my vantage point on the lake. The flames growing and towering tall above the roofs and the ever-enlarging plume of smoke were my only cues. I could hear the sirens of the fire department as they made their way down the road towards the lake. I could see the four fire engines stop on the road. No one knew the address. We had told them it was near the marina, but we didn’t know the street or house. Dispatch called me to ask for directions, I quickly gave it to the best of my abilities. Being new to the area I didn’t know my cardinal directions yet or any street names. They found the fire. It was an out-of-control brush fire. Relieved that they had found it and that no one had lost their home or cottage I quickly began to paddle faster towards the flame. Now that there was no danger, I wanted to see the fire closer. From the lake I could observe without being a hazard or impediment to the fire department. As I paddled full speed towards the flames several motor boats and jet skis came from across the lake, like moths to a flame, we all convened not far from the shore. I overheard someone on a jet ski with three occupants talking to a group on a motor boat, relaying the information about the fire being a brush fire. But many of the observers hadn’t seen the fire or the smoke. They had heard the call on the county radio about a structure fire by the marina and had quickly clambered into their boats and hastened over to see the damage. The fire department managed to tame the flames so as to keep the fire from spreading and creating a true structure fire. As all the cabins and cottages are so close, if one when up, slowly they could all go up. Then they rolled up their hoses and headed back to the station. Little Holmes had moved to sit on my lap as bits of white ash began to fall over the lake. The plume of smoke now even larger than before. As what had been a larger flame moments ago had been diminished to a more manageable size. It almost seemed to be complaining at having been knocked down a peg or two. Having used up a lot of my energy, as I wasn’t accustomed to paddling so fast. I slowly made my way back towards our camp. I counted the cabins on the way back. Twelve structures stood between ours and the brush fire. I brought the kayak aground, plucked Holmes from the boat and entered the cottage. Grateful that the fire had been contained and hadn’t damaged anyone’s property
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorJessica Marie Cunningham - Intentional lifestyle blogger, aspiring author, and podcast host. All things Slow Living, Books, Writing, Art, creativity, Christianity, and personal stories. Archives
March 2022
Categories
All
|