The sky is clear blue, so blue that you can taste its clarity. The autumn angle of the sun makes for sharper colors as it hits the hills and trees.

Then, I look out the window and the blue is tainted with grey, and there's a yellowish cast to the light. It's smoke! and it's coming closer, over the ridge and spilling down into our valley. The acrid smell of it finds its way into the building.

Within a few minutes, the view is gone. The hills are mere silhouettes in blue-grey, and the light is masked. There's a wildfire in Nicasio today, and they say we are in no danger.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 28, 2003 at 4:30 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.