The fires had been devastating. Every year the sheer number of acres and miles of forests that lay in ashes was over whelming. Mable went to the briefings at work about the fires. She had volunteered for some of the replanting and rebirth of the forests projects.

Walking through the ashes of a once vital forest was difficult for Mable. She had on a mask to protect her from the blowing ashes even though she didn’t need to breath, but this was in case others were in this area. No one should be around. It was still corded off from regular people and the fire fighters had moved on a few nights ago. The undergrowth was gone, just dust. Any animals who had been here when the flames hit, were nothing but ash. There were still charred remains of trees, mostly the ever greens. Mable gently touch one, wondering if there was still some life left within?

She was here to assess the damage. She pushed on the tree. It felt solid. Checking the roots, she saw they were tight in the ground. This was good, it would minimize any soil erosion. Mable stood up and looked around. She was going to need help. And it was help that anyone could do. She was going to ask the only group of people she thought might help her, her fellow kindred.

This was posted by Psychangel earlier this month. Retrieved and posted here