Saturn Guard is going dark.
Sunsetting Saturn Guard, Not because the fires have stopped — but because we ran out of fuel. Millions of acres still burn each year, and every tree that falls makes the future dimmer. If you are building a better alarm for Earth, please — carry the torch we couldn’t.
A Farewell to Saturn Guard (August 2025)
We started Saturn Guard with a simple, stubborn hope: that machines could learn to hear the first whisper of flame and give forests the seconds that change everything. For two years we chased that hope with empty pockets and full hearts. We asked the world for partnership and found mostly its silence.
Today, we are sunsetting Saturn Guard.
This ending is not a verdict on the problem — only on our means. Wildfire remains a vast grief: every season, millions of acres turn to smoke and memory, and the sky wears the color of loss. Trees older than our grandparents are erased in an afternoon. Homes and habitats vanish. The ledger we keep with our planet grows redder.
We do not leave proud; we leave honest. We tried, we stumbled, and we could not cross the distance between intention and infrastructure. Yet the work itself is larger than any one company. Innovation is a relay, not a solo. If you are out there testing sensors on a ridge at dawn, training models on hard, imperfect data, wiring another prototype in a dim garage — know this: we believe in you. The world needs your hands.
We will archive our site and step aside with gratitude for those who cheered us on. Our hope is not extinguished; it is simply changing owners. May someone braver, better funded, or just luckier pick up this ember and make of it a sunrise.
Goodbye for now, from the small team that wanted to teach machines to listen for fire — and, in doing so, to listen more carefully to the living world.