SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES

THIS is Mount Garcia. On fire. A week ago. We wondered why we kept hearing sirens. Then we saw this picture.

Needless to say it’s the dry season here. We’ve had a couple of sprinkles lasting a few minutes each since last August. Every breath feels/smells dry. Every step kicks up dust. Every car not washed in the last hour is covered. Even our pup Tumi has gone from gray to gray with brown overtones!

The pasture behind our house, all pastures in fact, green and lush in late summer, are nothing but dry dirt and rocks now. Cattle and horses are thirsty and hungry. They’re usually moved pasture to pasture, lot to lot, but now there is no reason to move them. The two horses on our street are being fed with carrots, apples, cabbage, etc. by those of us who walk by and see their predicament. There isn’t much hay available here and most can’t afford it anyway. Somehow the animals get by.

Even scarier are the fires that ensue. The brush and grasses on the mountainside become brittle with dryness creating perfect conditions for fire. Last year there were raging wildfires east of us that took weeks to extinguish. It was amazing to see helicopters hover over the lake scooping water up in large buckets that were flown to the fires and dumped. So inefficient. You do what you have to. (Sorry, can’t find my photo.)

Weekly housecleaning isn’t really enough right now. Dust (polvo) covers tables and countertops, floors and furniture, even seeps inside cabinets, within a matter of hours. And, no, we don’t close up the house. We came here to live in the outdoors hearing the sounds of nature, feeling the breeze, watching the trees sway. It is a choice.

So last week we watched the glow of burning fires and the plumes of smoke gather. We heard the sirens. We saw the air over the lake fill with smoke. Our eyes and nostrils burned. We pondered the possibility of fire behind our house instead of across the lake or miles to the east. Home owners insurance doesn’t mean much here. Claims would likely never be paid. Houses are made of brick, concrete, and metal. You take your chances.

We wait now for the rains. The buzzing, clicking hum of the “rain birds”, cicada-like insects, began a couple of weeks ago. They are a legendary predictor here of rain in the making, 6 weeks away from their first cries. Fingers crossed. We are ready. My eyes are dry yet blurry. Nothing helps much. Clouds are gathering across the lake lately. Strong winds and dark clouds arose from nowhere last night, slamming doors and floating loose papers to the floor. Hopefully a sign of what’s soon to arrive. I’m ready to stand in it. Green has become my favorite color!