Introduction
This is the second of a two part series of conversations with Karen Hesli recorded in January 2025 during the Palisades and Eaton fires in Los Angeles. In this episode, she tells the story of being in Matilija Canyon during the Thomas fire of 2017. We also talk about living on unceded Chumash land and what it means to be a steward of this land. For movement strategies and embodied practices, go to @robyneniplace Podcast edit and mixing by Finn Forest Green, www.finnforestgreen@persona.co Original music for the podcast intro and outro by George Karpasitis also known as mystic vessel, www.georgekarpasitis.com Remix on the outro by Avila Santo, vocals by ONYILOVE www.avilasanto.com, www.onyilove.com Podcast cover art by Eileen Itzel Mena, www.eileenitzelmena.com
This poem poured out in response to a letter from our niece Kate Espresetti in Scotland. I think my
sense of relief was finally registering when It dawned on me that Kate and her family’s original travel
plans were to be in ojai with us during the 3 weeks when the fires were raging. Lucky for them they
went to spain instead!
dear kate
its been over two weeks since the ordeal
and barely a meal
has been et
without wondering what's next?
The adrenalin
Has coarsed through the blood
scattering thoughts like mud.
In mid sentence something may interfere-
an urgency from nowhere appears-
like tools and bits left on the ground
and ashes swirling all around.
Perhaps later, the sentence that was incomplete
will return, like a found sock under the seat.
and sometimes by the river when very still
the birds come close… we feel the thrill
of their chirp, their song so reassuring-
oh…. the simple comfort of birding.
For that moment the world is set aright
from the hold of that fiery night.
When walls held flames and heat
The canyon oven baked itself so deep
As if from ice, boulders cracked in half
Howling dragons zigzagging a path.
The burning and churning of her power
Improved the prospect of new wild flowers
'up from ashes;' they say….
....mystery does not weigh
…..just comes to play, any day.
just comes to play, any day.
For as sure as the mountains have from fire sprung
as sure as the meadow is lit by the sun
as sure as the sandbags now filling our cart
we love you dear fire, deep in our heart.
Then flash flood rose quickly,
and the body rash so prickly!
and tears gushed, unannounced
when friends pronounce
their glad tidings we survived,
yes, it’s good to be alive!
Oh, the barren burned earth
Will not freeze in fear’s rebirth.
But the fire delivers beyond desire…
a warmed-up rekindled wonder of life,
...on the edge of the river canyon knife.
So back ‘atcha kate- with tinsel and snow
we hike in the ash now where trees used to grow!
Here's to the light of christmas shining through-
our smokey skies used to be blue!
Canyons and crannies we have never seen
no longer covered by chaparral green.
The moonscape- charred and greyer
Once hidden boulders become altars for prayer
Recovering now from stress and the smoke
poor Tully seems a bit worried 'bout his folk....
having danced and shaken hands with the fire god,
now they’re forgetting to feed their dog!
happy christmas!!
december 24, 2017
hugs and love,
j and k
By Karen Hesli