There’s fire on the mountain
We got back after the sun had gone down. I stepped out of the 4x4 and immediately I could tell something was off. There was a strange energy in the air, things felt still- not peaceful, but choked.
We got back after the sun had gone down. I stepped out of the 4x4 and immediately I could tell something was off. There was a strange energy in the air, things felt still- not peaceful, but choked.
It was so dark I was disoriented trying to sense what had happened as I began walking down the path toward the farm from the dirt road we took to get there. Everyone from our group was quiet as slowly those who carried head lamps began to illuminate scene. The farm, beautiful, lush and resting between the high ridge of the mountain and the cold, rushing water of the river had been completely burnt down.
Shocked and confused we entered the center plain of the land where the few tents and small bamboo structure had remained. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow move behind me and as I turned around to meet it, I found John, shirtless and covered head to toe in black soot and charcoal- his clear white eyes a stark contrast to his midnight colored torso.
The night before we all took part in the inaugural yagé ceremony at the brand new project in San Gil, Colombia. During the day everyone but John had left to attend a sweat lodge ceremony at another beautiful project about an hour away.
While we had been in the sweat lodge, bathed in the heat of the fiery stones, praying for grace- John had been at the farm by himself making charcoal, during a very dry and windy season. Coals jumped into a high grass and within minutes the fire was out of control. By the time we made it back to the farm, everything was gone. Remnants of the fire could still be seen high up on the ridge, creeping ever close to a forest of pine.
We had no option but to work through the night carrying buckets of water from the river up and throughout the ridge looking for the hot spots and smaller flames. Once we thought perhaps we drowned all of the fire, someone would look up in the night and find another part of the mountain catching fire.
Bucket after bucket and hour after hour finally the sun began to rise. We took a long break so that we could rest and recover and it felt like there wasn’t much else we could do. Though the farm was essentially scorched- it was the neighbors pine forest we were worried about, knowing that if it caught wildly, the impact of the fire could become catastrophic.
Everything was so dry, it hadn’t rained in a month or two, and it seemed throughout the day there was endless pockets of smoke and small flame popping up in different parts of the ridge.
There was a moment in the afternoon we all came together and sat in a circle, exhausted, and concerned, and uncertain on what we can do. Luis, a beautiful leader of the community held a cigar in his hand, and when he finally spoke, it wasn’t clear who he was speaking to- if it was to us in the circle, to himself, or all of creation at once. “I am grateful for this fire, it has given us a wonderful opportunity. But now the fire has burned enough, and it’s time ask for the water to cool us down. When I light this tobacco, I will pray for rain, and by the time I finish smoking this tobacco- the rain will come and quench the rest of the burning coals.”
Over the next hour we sat together, some of us began to dance, in our exhaustion we laughed, letting out some of the chaos that had been brewing within over the last 24 hours, and Luis smoked his cigar. As time passed we witnessed clouds begin to form in the distance, and at some point there become no doubt they were heading our direction, darkening by the minute.
I looked over at Luis, wind stirring and the sky cast grey above us, I watched as he pinched the last of the tobacco and laid it down on the ground in front of his feet and in that exact moment drops of rain began falling down upon us. We shouted and laughed and hugged one another, we danced and within minutes the drops of rain turned into a heavy downpour.
I’ll never forget this experience, those of us who were there together carrying buckets of water up the mountain late into the night had created a special bond. Witnessing the prayer of Luis and the rain that came to answer, was nothing short of miraculous, and true.
Today the farm is thriving. In the end the fire served to clear the land and nourish the soil. It came with many lessons for everyone involved.
A couple years ago I wrote a song that was inspired by these events. It’s called “chase the flame” and it’s the second track from my new EP “the light, the dark, and magic” which will be released on all streaming platforms in February 2024.
For the first time, here is the debut of my song “chase the flame.”
Produced by Karl Roth, drums by Miguel Cruz, violin by my talented cousin Jack Bogard.
Thank you so much for listening.
xogb 🐝❤️🧙♂️
Truly a magical story and incredible song. What a blessing in the journey of life!
This story is crazy and I love the song! That upright bass is super tasty too 😏