I walked a ridge today that I planted as a young man, and half of it is black from a fire that never should have gotten that far. I gave my whole life to forests that were supposed to outlive me by centuries. Watching a bad policy and one dry summer undo it feels like burying something, and I can't shake the grief.
More people experience this than they realize.
You gave your life to forests, and you grieve watching fire and policy undo your work.
If this sounds familiar, the Library can help you find the bigger picture.