Fire Walk with Me

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright 
In the forests of the night, 
What immortal hand or eye 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? 
In what distant deeps or skies 
Burnt the fire of thine eyes? 
On what wings dare he aspire? 
What the hand dare sieze the fire? 
William Blake

The fires of the Northwest are many. Great or small; real or imagined, external, internal, and otherworldly. 

We must tend to them.

We are in Twin Peaks, after all.