The Fire Outside

We recently burned all the brush I cleared from the blueberry patch and the "garden". Most of the brush was vines and sticks, but there were perhaps a dozen small trees in the mix. Everything had a long time to dry out, and there were some leaf piles underneath the sticks. I had some friends over to carry shovels and rakes for tending the fire, set a few newspaper pages in strategic places, and got things started. I wasn't even sure if we would be able to get a good flame going, but the flames popped up nicely within a minute or two. Another minute after that, and we had a complete firestorm on our hands. I'm talking about flames reaching 12-15 feet into the air, with wood crackling electrically over the roaring maelstrom that created an actual wind that mocked the light breeze that was already blowing. The heat and sound were incredible, and it was a good thing that I had already raked most of the surrounding fuel into the pile, so the fire had nowhere to spread. After 10 minutes or so, the blaze had subsided into something more like what you would expect from a medium size brush fire.
It was clear, though, how powerless we are when confronted by the forces of the natural world around us. The fire was unable to spread, but there was nothing I could do to put those flames down, the combustion was simply out of control. We have become increasingly insulated not just from the elements, but even the humanity of our neighbors as we retreat to the Internet. That insulation allows us to build a false image of our own importance. Standing next to a howling fire, which was itself nothing compared to a 100 acre fire advancing at 15 m.p.h., clearly illustrated my own impotence.