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| BRESSETE HILL ROAD... |
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| ...DITTO |
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| RESTING ON THE FLIGHT SOUTH |
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| TOWNSEND ROAD |
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| HWY. 13 AND TOWNSEND ROAD |
Monday, 9:00 AM, 43 degrees F at the ferry dock, 40 on the back porch. Wind SSW, calm with occasional gusts. The sky is clear, the humidity 76%. The barometer is falling, now at 30.17". High today will be around 60, then warming some during the week with mixed skies and no rain predicted until Saturday.
Yesterday was a somewhat dark day for photos, but beautiful nonetheless.
“Autumn” by T.E. Hulme
A touch of cold in the Autumn night—
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.
OFF THE CUFFI walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.
Wildfires have burned thousands of acres of California grass and shrub land, with the loss of thousands of homes and upwards of 40 lives. That country will burn in a dry season, it always has and it always will. If not started by a careless cigarette or campfire it will start from a lightning strike or the hot muffler of a car carelessly parked on tinder dry grass.
Chaparral is so flammable that it is literally explosive. I remember being in the mountains outside Los Angeles when the volatile oils exuded by the chaparral smelled like gasoline, and we actually worried about someone lighting a match.
People have built cabins and even expensive homes up fire-prone canyons with only one escape route and then rebuilt them after they were burned out. Living in fire country is every bit as risky and illogical as living in a flood plain. It is literally a matter of choosing the element for one's demise. And that's all right with me, as long as I don't have to pay for the end result with higher taxes, or higher insurance premiums.
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