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We Don’t Have All the Answers,
But We Have Evidence
Before we go any further, we want to be clear:
We’re not claiming to have all the solutions.
But we do have evidence, evidence that took years to build.
The garden at Studio Petrichor—and many of our clients’ gardens—was created through whole-systems thinking.
These landscapes didn’t come from a manual. They emerged from years of observation, listening, and collaboration
with the land,
with the waters,
with the seasons.
Most importantly, we’ve focused on returning carbon to the soil to increase water retention and resilience.
What Stopped the Fire?
Let me paint a picture:
- Did we have roof sprinklers? Yes
- Did we pre-burn most of our fences using the
Japanese method of shou sugi ban? Yes. - Did my husband return at 6:30 AM to risk his life, watering our home and our neighbor’s? Yes.
- Did we communicate with neighbors, guiding them through the chaos so they could return and slow the fire even further? Yes.
Just like rainwater harvesting, soil-building, and fire-adaptive plantings
this was whole-system thinking in action.
The houses to the south and west of us are still standing.
A Flawed Narrative
Too often, the official narrative tells us:
“Clear the vegetation. Create defensible space. Remove the fuel.”
But when did we start seeing nature only as fuel?
When did we forget that plants, trees, and soil are what breathe life into this place?
The term “firescaping,” as it’s commonly used, holds the frequency of blame, fear, and separation.
It implies that landscapes are dangerous by default—
that they must be managed, modified, even removed.
What If We Changed the Language?
- Instead of “defensible space,” we say: resilient home ecosystem
- Instead of “fuel modification,” we say: fire-adaptive plantings
- Instead of “vegetation clearance,” we say: ecological stewardship
Or better yet, tending to the wild—a sacred practice that’s been part of this region for thousands of years.
This isn’t just semantics.
Language shapes our reality. Words shape action.
If we speak in fear, we design from fear.
If we speak in relationship, we design for life.
What Really Ignites Homes?
Let’s be honest:
In the Eaton Fire, it wasn’t the plants that ignited my home.
It was:
- The open vents that invited embers in
- The gas line that couldn’t shut itself off
- The neighbor’s wooden fence that acted as a fire highway between structures
These are the real vulnerabilities.
And yet, our policies continue to focus on removing plants ignoring the evidence.
The data is clear:
- Most homes are lost to embers, not direct flame
- Structure-to-structure ignition is the main driver in urban fire spread
- And the greatest resilience comes from how we build, where we build, and how we relate to the land around us
Care, Not Control
We are not helpless.
For six years, I’ve been preparing my home for both drought and fire—through an ongoing relationship with the landscape.
It’s never been about control.
It’s about care. Engagement. A deeper listening to place.
From Fire-Fighting to Fire-Stewarding
So we ask us all today:
What would it mean to move from a fire-fighting mentality
to a fire-stewarding consciousness?
What if resilience isn’t about clearing space,
but making space,
for relationship, for memory, for long-term ecological health?
This is not a one-size-fits-all problem.
Altadena is not Sierra Madre.
My property is not the same as Leigh’s.
Each community and parcel is different and unique.
Our solutions must be place-based, community-driven, and emergent.
A Call to Rethink
What if we stopped writing more rules that ignore reality—
and started building more homes, gardens, and neighborhoods
that work with the wisdom of fire, wind, water… and Nature?
If you wish to read the full letter we submitted to the Board of Forestry and other agencies, you can find it here:
👉 Beyond the Flames: Rethinking Resilience in Fire-Prone Communities
More is in the works.
If you’d like to follow along, we invite you to sign up for our newsletter at studio-petrichor.com.