Until recently, I had not been to Paradise CA since the devastating Camp Fire.  It’s been nearly 9 months and many others have been there; whether they had lost their homes, businesses, loved ones; or had been spared such losses, provided food and water to displaced pets and wild life, cleaned properties, painted murals, or were compelled to see the site of one of the biggest and most devastating wild fires in history.

                I could not go.  Was it a sacred place I dare not tread or did I feel I’d be judged as the rubbernecker at a traffic accident?  Did I need an invitation from someone closer or was I simply afraid it would be too painful?

                Whatever kept me from going was set aside last Saturday; I had received my invitation.   I was going to meet the owner of a boutique that had reopened its doors in downtown Paradise.  I imagined we might meet in Chico for lunch or coffee, or I’d serve her wine at my studio.  When the phone call was over, she had invited me to her shop to show her my wares.  So, Saturday morning I gathered my goods, printed my prices, put on my big girl pants and climbed in my car.

                The drive up the Skyway began as I remembered: some speeders, some dawdlers, and others just driving as posted.  As I drew closer to the town there were signs: billboards and banners of Paradise Strong, Rebuilding Paradise and Camp Fire Attorneys.  There were burned trees, burnt buildings, missing buildings and landmarks… other signs.  In town there were workers in hard hats, heavy equipment, empty buildings, buildingless slabs, sparkling storefront windows, and “Open for Business” signs.  It was a stirring juxtaposition of devastation and hope. 

                My emotions whirled as I parked on the street near Bobbi’s Boutique.  There I was, in Paradise for the first time since the fire and about to call on a potential client; no time for sorting feelings, she was expecting me.

                 I was greeted with warmth and a smile.  The last of a congregation of shoppers was just going out the door.  The shop was fresh and clean, and offered a wonderful array of temptation.  (I can still hear a little blue purse calling my name.)  The owner was friendly, professional and a joy to speak with.  She shared a bit of her story, plans for the future, and her absolutely positive outlook on life, Paradise and its rebuilding.  Where many might see loss and sadness, she had a vision of hope and renewal.

                When I returned to my car,  I did not explore the town to see more or test my senses. I drove back down the Skyway, heart full and hopeful for those picking up the pieces, those rebuilding, those saying goodbye, those planting new roots and those in the air, undecided of just where to land.