The moon rose orange in the smoky night and hung forlornly in the sky above the blackened remains of the forest. Wisps of smoke from smoldering hot spots caught on the cool evening breezes as ashes settle and blanket everything like snow. The sunset glows as orange as the distant glow of the flames, bathing everything in a shade of terra cotta. It is eerily quiet and calm.
A lone deer gingerly steps from lush greenery into the edge of the burn zone, head down, sniffing the charred stalks of grasses. It snaps delicate twigs and crispy carbon-coated things as it slowly pays its respects to the lost home it once loved. Then bored and slightly confused, it turns and bounds back into the lush greenery.
It begins to rain. Slowly at first, but then a steady downpour begins cleansing the wounded forest. The moon disappears behind some clouds and darkness settles in as if to give the forest some privacy and rest; a pause to gather itself and move on. Tomorrow there will begin a new chapter here.