Over Memorial Day weekend, my husband and I took a little vaca up to the northern, and most beautiful, part Minnesota. Sunday was our last full day before we’d head home on Monday, so we hopped into the truck and went down the road a ways to our favorite bar and grill for dinner.
Shortly after we were seated, the lights, music and TV’s began to flicker on and off. Weird. Then they went out completely until the generator kicked in a few seconds later. We finished our meal and were surprised to see a lot of people gathering outside the bar. As we headed back to the cabin, we came upon this scene.
As we slowly passed, over the trees you could see black smoke. There was a fire somewhere in the woods.
Huge planes began flying incredibly low, passing over us repeatedly. When we hit the cabin, I grabbed my camera and we bolted through the woods down to the dock where we could get a better view of what was going on.
There were two of these gigantic planes swooping down right in front of us to grab water from the lake, then flying back over to drop it on the flames. They did this over and over again for several hours! We had a front row seat.
By dusk, the smoke disappeared and the planes flew away. The fire was out. While it was really exciting for us to get a first hand look at the action, in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but pray that nobody was hurt and nothing was damaged other than forest.
A news report we found the next day told us that a downed power line had sparked the fire and a total of 22 acres had been burned.