The Fire This Time, Part Two

[Explanation: I've split this blog in half for a coupla reasons. One has to do with this being a different topic. But another has to do with the sheer length of my blogs. I have been told that blogs are supposed to be shorter...

Well, I don't know from that! I just think: It's my blog and I'll blather if I want to! But I am afraid I am becoming someone about whom I used to observe, they tell "no short stories!" Now that we are talking more regularly than maybe we ever have before, I am finding that my father is that sort of person. Or maybe he's just become that, in his grief and his loneliness. I just observe that we have no short conversations. Maybe when I am less bereaved and less lonely, my stories/blogs will get shorter, too...]

For the whole week while the fires raged up and down the coast, daylight had this orange-cast about it, a weird light, pre-Halloween. The sky was overcast, with clouds or soot, I could not tell, but there was always at least a faint smell of smoke in the air. Ash would precipitate, covering everything outside in this fine dust. In the paper, the color for "unhealthful" air was virtually the same color as the air itself!

Then, at the end of the week, the wind changed. It came from the ocean again, and carried a cool humidity that was itself relieving. The light reverted to its usual silver cast, and the air had a freshness about it I hadn't smelled in some time.

It was then, at that point, that they told us not to breathe.

Well, not exactly, but there was an article in the paper warning about the air quality, and there were news reports on the radio with the same message-- all once the air appeared to be getting better! I wondered about the timing...

And while I appreciated the message, I was reminded of a routine Bill Cosby used to do, very early in his career, maybe on one of his first albums, "Why is There Air?". Bill would speak the conversation between God and Noah. God would tell Noah to build the ark. Noah would not see the necessity for it. God would ask, "How long can you tred water?"

I felt a like question was being put to us residents of Southern California. I mean, when the air quality is so clearly "unhealthful for everyone," how long can we hold our collective breath?

The truth is, we have been holding our breath ever since the fires started, watching the reports, amazed at the bravery of those fighting the fires, sharing the grief of those whose lives have been threatened, and deeply saddened for their losses. It will take some time before so many are breathing easier...

Prayers for our neighbors and the firefighters are appropriate ways to exhale.

Blessings...