Legs hanging over the edge of Corral Canyon, I took a deep breath of the early December air as I watched the sky change from gentle blue to a soft combination of pink, orange, and lavender. Breathing in, I separated myself from the anxieties restlessly stirring around my head all day. I discovered the lookout a few days earlier when hiking with friends through the Malibu canyon to escape the fog that had rolled in over the beaches.
Watching the sun rise over the clouds and feeling like I was miles away from reality, I knew this space was special. So after a busy Sunday a few days later, I decided to come back to witness the sunset in my solitude. While one experience was a sunrise in community with friends and another a sunset alone, both simultaneously grounded and awakened something inside me.
As a Sage, time spent in nature is central to my identity. In her book One Green Thing, Heather White explains that “The Sage has a deep spiritual connection to nature,” as “Sages need time alone for reflection, prayer, or meditation in nature. Time in the outdoors infuses them with peace and energy.”
Whether a beach sunrise or a canyon sunset, I ground myself by spending quality time outdoors and separating myself from the beautiful chaos that is Los Angeles. Malibu has become a sacred space where I find comfort and peace when life becomes too overwhelming.
When I need a reminder of why I am dedicating my life to environmentalism and wildlife conservation, I only need to find security in the natural spaces around me. While I cherish the time I can go alone and meditate with my thoughts, I also value sharing these places with others. It brings me joy to give the people I love the chance to fall in love with the places I love. To put it simply, opening the eyes of loved ones to the nature around us is my love language.
My heart sank when I first heard about the fires ravaging Southern California. I knew people whose lives were rooted in these communities, their livelihoods and personal histories stemming from such a beloved area. Within hours, the unstoppable fires robbed so many of their belongings and priceless mementos. I was back home with my family when I first saw the news, so I never had to witness with my own eyes the destruction and flames tearing apart these communities.
Not only that, but my apartment was miles from the evacuation zones. However, many others were not as fortunate. Once I returned to Los Angeles and spoke with friends about what our city had experienced, it was apparent that everybody had been impacted somehow.
Whether the loss of a home, sacred space, or natural area, few Los Angeles residents walked away from this disaster untouched. Through talking with those who had lost their home and volunteering at clothing drives, I was continuously reminded of the gravity of these fires but struggled to completely wrap my head around what “rebuilding” meant.
With so many questions, so few answers, and so many broken and mourning hearts, the thought of coming back stronger feels insurmountable. But if I have learned anything from this city in the two years I’ve lived here, the people are nothing if not resilient. Witnessing people come together to host clothing drives, coordinate volunteer events with animal shelters, and provide love and support to those hurting, I realized that it’s hard not to have hope that Los Angeles will rise from the ashes.
Things may not go back to how they were before, but that’s not to say the city won’t come back more prepared for the next disaster and in community with our neighbors, even stronger than before. For now, I’ve found that the most important thing I can do for this city is show up – whether to a volunteer event or to support an overwhelmed friend. I feel so grateful to have been able to appreciate such breathtaking sunrises and comforting sunsets, and these past few months have instilled in me the importance of appreciating all that is around me.
While it has been almost three months since news spread of the fires, we must still remember the people and spaces who suffered from the fourteen fires that devastated Southern California. All too often, when climate disasters strike, people tune in to hear the news for a few weeks then tune out when they think enough time has passed and everything has gone back to “normal.”
However, we cannot become numb to intense climate disasters like the recent fires – and even Hurricane Helene that hit North Carolina and other parts of the southeast last fall. Instead of turning away from tangible evidence of climate change and the communities still mourning, we must cultivate the empathy to continue to sit with those still suffering. While it is often more comfortable to turn a blind eye, I encourage the OneGreenThing community to tune back in to listen and support our friends impacted by climate disasters and the disproportionate impact of climate change.
The conversations surrounding Hurricane Helene and the California wildfires may dwindle these days, but it is our job to spark these discussions again about what we can do to support these communities and how we can prepare going forward. Whether through donating to clothing drives or the American Red Cross, volunteering at animal shelters that took in strays, or simply checking in on those impacted, I urge you to remember these climate disasters so as not to be suddenly shocked and unprepared when the next disaster strikes. If I have witnessed anything this past year, it’s that climate change will eventually impact everybody. For now, let us remember those affected and join hands with our neighbors so as to strengthen the sense of support I know our community is capable of.
Ellie Bridges Greenfield is a senior at USC, majoring in Environmental Studies and minoring in Spanish. Originally from Tennessee, she grew up passionate about environmental activism and animal rights. At USC, Ellie Bridges volunteers with the USC Equestrian Team, is a member of the USC Garden Club, and serves as the Fundraising Chair for the Humane Society of USC.