Ostriches don't but I do
I bury my head in the sand. When I am assaulted by uncontrollable dire circumstances it is not enough for me to be inactive. I must be ignorantly inactive.
If I am knowledgably inactive I climb the walls. There must be some action I can take, I reason. Those are the thoughts that create the tornado in my brain. Either those or I drive myself crazy with worry.
No, the best solution is to bury my head in the sand until things improve or return to "normal". Of course this is not always easy. Occasionally my sand hill is blown open exposing me to the light.
Case in point, what happened to me this week.
Mayne Island is very quite. Sure there are the spring choir of tree frogs. There is even the occasional piece of heavy machinery. But on the whole we are a quite lot. Not Sunday night. No, not Sunday night. It sounded like we were being invaded.
Then on Monday I woke to a heady smell. Something was hanging like a ten pound weight in the air. What it was was not easily identifiable or at least not to me. Later that same day I turned on CBC radio, as is my habit, and I overheard bites and pieces. Something about "Galiano Island" and "fire". No, it can't be. Hubby, the volunteer firefighter had warned me that we had 45 minutes to vacate the island if "something" happened. 45 minutes! It was so dry that that's all a tiny little spark would need. Anything could create a spark from a chainsaw to a Bar-B-Que. Anything! We, islanders, had been living on pins and needles. Rumour spread that some tourist had enquired about obtaining additional firewood. Didn't they know?
And then it happened. It had happened on Galiano Island. 130 residents were evicted from their properties. Ferry transportation to and from Galiano was limited to island residents.
Island life breeds self-reliance. We know how to pull together in the case of an emergency. How does a tiny island find room for 130 evacuees? It's easy we all move over one.
Here I was safe on Mayne Island driving myself crazy trying to figure out how to help. Three Mayne Island firefighters had already gone over to help. I have no skills as a firefighter. The best thing I could do is find another sand hill and wait it out.
On Tuesday, I attended an art council meeting. (http://mayne.gulfislands.com/trincoarts) Our art council is comprised of four islands: Mayne Island, Pender Island, Saturna Island and Galiano Island. A friend from Galiano Island was in attendance. He reported that they were all working together, that the fire was under control, and that they would get it done. His words comforted me.
Yesterday, I heard bites and pieces of another broadcast, "Galiano residents allowed to return home". The crisis is largely over. Even though the fire is not out it is largely contained. We are even promised rain on Friday. Ah, sweet sweet rain.
Only one question remains: What could I have done? Could I have made knitting kits to be distributed by my friend? Surely there is something I could have done.
The Canadian Guild of Knitters does distribute knitting kits to those in crisis. Find out more by logging on to: www.cgknitters.ca
If I am knowledgably inactive I climb the walls. There must be some action I can take, I reason. Those are the thoughts that create the tornado in my brain. Either those or I drive myself crazy with worry.
No, the best solution is to bury my head in the sand until things improve or return to "normal". Of course this is not always easy. Occasionally my sand hill is blown open exposing me to the light.
Case in point, what happened to me this week.
Mayne Island is very quite. Sure there are the spring choir of tree frogs. There is even the occasional piece of heavy machinery. But on the whole we are a quite lot. Not Sunday night. No, not Sunday night. It sounded like we were being invaded.
Then on Monday I woke to a heady smell. Something was hanging like a ten pound weight in the air. What it was was not easily identifiable or at least not to me. Later that same day I turned on CBC radio, as is my habit, and I overheard bites and pieces. Something about "Galiano Island" and "fire". No, it can't be. Hubby, the volunteer firefighter had warned me that we had 45 minutes to vacate the island if "something" happened. 45 minutes! It was so dry that that's all a tiny little spark would need. Anything could create a spark from a chainsaw to a Bar-B-Que. Anything! We, islanders, had been living on pins and needles. Rumour spread that some tourist had enquired about obtaining additional firewood. Didn't they know?
And then it happened. It had happened on Galiano Island. 130 residents were evicted from their properties. Ferry transportation to and from Galiano was limited to island residents.
Island life breeds self-reliance. We know how to pull together in the case of an emergency. How does a tiny island find room for 130 evacuees? It's easy we all move over one.
Here I was safe on Mayne Island driving myself crazy trying to figure out how to help. Three Mayne Island firefighters had already gone over to help. I have no skills as a firefighter. The best thing I could do is find another sand hill and wait it out.
On Tuesday, I attended an art council meeting. (http://mayne.gulfislands.com/trincoarts) Our art council is comprised of four islands: Mayne Island, Pender Island, Saturna Island and Galiano Island. A friend from Galiano Island was in attendance. He reported that they were all working together, that the fire was under control, and that they would get it done. His words comforted me.
Yesterday, I heard bites and pieces of another broadcast, "Galiano residents allowed to return home". The crisis is largely over. Even though the fire is not out it is largely contained. We are even promised rain on Friday. Ah, sweet sweet rain.
Only one question remains: What could I have done? Could I have made knitting kits to be distributed by my friend? Surely there is something I could have done.
The Canadian Guild of Knitters does distribute knitting kits to those in crisis. Find out more by logging on to: www.cgknitters.ca
posted by Author Leanne Dyck at 8:27 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home