Shaped by Its Burning

Every time I drive through Altadena, the horror feels new. At first, some things were still on fire when I'd drive by. Now things feel haunted and empty. Lots have been cleared. But I remember what was there. There were no empty lots in Altadena before. Suddenly every other lot is blank. Lives erased.

I used to love being there. Hiking in Eaton Canyon. It will never be the same to hike there again. I miss it, but it's still there. I avoid it now.

It's hardest to show other people. Seeing it through someone else's eyes makes it brand new again.

Altadena used to feel sunny. All the time. Even if there was no sun. It felt warm and inviting, sometimes claustrophobic. It just feels so empty now. No one lives there. Looters gave up on it a while ago.

One of my grandma's friends told me the other day how nice it is that it has been raining and how there are flowers again in Altadena. All I could think about was how these gardens and flowers won't be seen by anyone anymore. Does it matter if there are flowers then?

It used to be full of sound there too. I lived on Altadena Drive growing up and there were tons of cars driving through every day. The sound became my lullaby. Now though, standing in my empty childhood bedroom, I hear nothing. Birds occasionally, but no cars, no gardeners.

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to see without knowing it so intimately before. To know what a special place it was before any of it burned.

Being in love has made me see myself differently. I think about the person he is getting to know. I'm a person shaped by that place and by its burning.

I think too about last summer. Riding my bike over to my parents. Stopping at Altadena Beverages and grabbing a popsicle. Tanning and reading in their backyard. Sweating in the grass. Their dogs following me and hanging out while I read. It felt so safe. It felt like it would always be there and nothing could touch it. We would make guac from the avocado tree, lemonade from the lemon tree. Both are gone now. Funny I used gerunds to describe that. I guess I want that to be my present.

I would not trade this reality for another, for any other. That doesn't make it hurt any less though.