I spent a fitful night on the couch. This time it wasn't something I said!
The Station Fire in La Canada is alarmingly close to our house. Driving home from work last night, the plumes of smoke loomed huge over Angeles Crest, and the flames were visible from downtown, about 15 miles away. Around 6 the near arm of the fire started to crest the nearest ridge and was periodically visible from our driveway, which was unnerving. The further arm of the fire was a safer distance away, but was rampaging, creating a diffuse red glow against the smoke in the twilight.
I spent the night on the couch to be able to hear if there was an evacuation, and to get up every couple of hours to check if the fire was getting closer and checking the news and various web sites. By dawn the near arm of the fire had retreated a bit, and was no longer visible. But our neighborhood is in a vast cloud of smoke and gently raining ash. My eyes stung even in the house; spending even a few moments outside made my chest hurt.
We're packed up in case we have to evacuate. I had to do so about 35 years ago, when my family lived a few blocks from where I live now, at the edge of the mountain — I was taken to a friend's house while my father stood on the roof, garden hose in hand, putting out embers. The house was fine. The mountain burned black, but grew green again many times since then.
The window in my office faces southwest, so I won't be distracted all day.
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