My friends say no, don't go for that cotton candy

Finding myself in such a tense moment, I saw immediately that the left and right sides of the ridge had to continue to be watered.  The shrub in the middle was weak anyway, and we let that go.  My adrenaline was increasing, but it went tandem with the moment.  Holding the line, hoping to delay the sparks.

Then I woke up.

 

Last weekend, I was 35 miles from fire destruction moving at an unrelenting pace.  35 miles wasn't shit.  We were all stuck inside (lest you think you're some big timer who could go out for lunch and set aside your headache, eyes watering, awful throat, and depression).  35 miles and for all I knew I was surrounded by webers full of pall malls.  Thanks to the firefighters, it was a slow fade to Sunday night, which was deemed "tolerable" and colder nights, which "help" insomuch it's not 80 degrees at that time.

 

And true, this isn't the first rodeo; in 2003 the fire in San Diego blew up here and made a run of fall days look like a permanent 5PM.  Even last year, I opined that the Verdugo mountain fires had no way of hitting my domicile because it would have to cross a freeway, train track, and "river" to get over here and...

 

Oh, fires can do that?  Well color me a fucking simpleton for being so caviler to think I could out-smart the beast.  The very definition of dumb luck, there's now talk of "here are the masks" and "this looks like a good indoor air purifier and ionizer" without a trace of irony or what-are-the-odds inflection.

 

I've lived here long enough to see the changes.  Santa Ana winds were expected in the fall.  Now they're more of a year-round intruder.  The winds could bring a possibility of a wildfire.  Now we know there will be one, just a matter of location and size.  We used to have a rainy season, without fail.  Now some years it rains, but most are barely moist.  Rain used to be met with gritted teeth knowing your drive.  Now there's dancing in the streets.  Holy shit, it's raining!

 

The hurricane, the snowstorm, the tornado, it arrives, it devastates, it leaves.  The wildfire?  It isn't leaving.