It feels just like it looks. Apocalyptic is the word that keeps coming to mind.
The fires in Southern California are still raging. Again, we are not in immediate danger, but the fires are burning all around us. It is an understatement to say that the "air quality is bad."
Thank you all for your kind thoughts and for your continued prayers.
There is something fascinating and terrifying about this whole situation.
Last night, we drove up a few blocks to the top of the ridge where we live to get a better grasp on what exactly is happening around us.
We were not surprised to find all our neighbors there doing the same thing. It's just a morbid fact that it's easier to see the flames at night. We are located in a valley that is surrounded by low hills and canyons. The hills and canyons all seem to be burning. We just want to know if we are in danger. We speak in reverential whispers. The power and destruction is just too too big to comprehend. Simply stated: we are afraid.
It is exhausting to be in this constant state of alertness. I think we are all on adrenaline overload.
I am learning more than I want to about dealing with emergencies. Governor Ahnold is just around the corner today at the local high school touring their evacuation area. Is this supposed to be reassuring?? This weird non-daylight is adding to the surreal quality of the situation.
Then I get an email from the city telling me about more road and school closures and evacuations. The fire is a few blocks from my mom's house.
Again, I don't think she is in immediate danger, but the smoke is awful and she's 93. I race over there to pick her up and find the canyon behind her house billowing and glowing.
It's impossible to breathe.
Keeping my voice steady so that it doesn't betray my rising fear and emotions, I suggest she come and spend the day at my house. What a wonderful idea!
I feed her lunch and sit and chat with her for a bit.
I excuse myself for a moment and I burst into tears.
Just another day in
sunny So Cal.