“Tyger tyger burning bright / In the forests of the night.”

The first line of Blake’s poem ran through my head over and over like a needle skipping on vinyl. I’d always appreciated the comparison of the predator to the power of fire tearing through anything in its path. And now, watching the trees burn around me, I couldn’t help but picture a tiger pouncing from branch to branch, its tail flicking upwards in the flames.

Blake wondered who could create such a ferocious creature as a tiger. As I watched the forest writhe, engulfed in flames, I wondered who could create such a creature as man, a being that could set a fire and think only of poetry as he watched the world around him burn.