Yet another Requiem

 

Sunrise over Highway 153, Utah

Apologies up front if you’ve heard enough from me about the personal side of grieving wildfire-mediated losses. The current Cottonwood Fire has consumed nearly 100,000 acres, much of which was a sacred space for me.  Yes, I understand that wildfires are part of the natural lifecycle of forests (though modern megafires are not), and that there are issues beyond my own loss, like wildlife habitat destruction.  What follows is written from a selfish perspective. Sorrow is a lonely pursuit.

 

Summer Lupines, Fishlake National Forest Utah

I stumbled upon this part of the Fishlake National Forest by accident, just three years ago.  My husband was fishing with a guide near Beaver Utah, and we needed a cooler place to camp.  We headed east on highway 153 and set up near Puffer Lake at almost 10,000 feet elevation. On the way out, we continued over the mountain toward the tiny town of Junction and saw lots of terrific camping areas along the way. We knew we’d be back.

 

Detail, Fishlake National Forest Utah

We’ve made five more trips since, for a total of about 15-20 nights.  We’ve made that area a regular stopover on the way to Park City and have had longer stays during fall color season.  Of course we didn’t think we were done exploring there.

 

The Resplendent Autumn of 2025, Fishlake National Forest Utah

Fall 2025 was particularly spectacular, and we were blessed to have arrived at the peak of fall color.  That was our most recent trip, and like most final encounters, we had no idea. It was a great experience to go out on.

I don’t have the history here that I do in the (Grand Canyon’s) North Rim Forest.  Still, this place had gotten under my skin.

 

Small Lakes near the Summit of Highway 153 in Summer, Utah

So once again I’m struggling with grief, but I also feel profound gratitude because I experienced this extraordinary place.  The loss is an apt metaphor for the process of aging.  We lose important abilities bit by bit and increasingly must get by on memory. I’ve said goodbye to rock climbing, scuba, and bikinis, to name a few.

Kiss your loved ones, make hay while the sun shines, and thanks for the read.