Sunday, September 17, 2006

Scorch

I had intended to be on a long-postponed hike this morning, rather than sitting before my laptop in all-too-usual Drew fashion, typing away in hopes that someone somewhere would actually read what I had to say. The hike — a quick and easy adventure to Tangerine Falls, a spot in Montecito that in all actuality sounds like it belongs on the Candy Land game board — did not happen, this time due to a rain of ash drifting north from a wildfire near Ojai. I’ve honestly never seen anything quite like it before. Upon looking out the window, you’d expect the typical Santa Barbara morning: cool, damp, blanketed by fog. Instead, what looks to be the usual fluff is this sinister, opaque gray that reeks of barbecue-gone-bad and has the air burning a good fifteen degrees hotter than it should. Hiking was out of the question. The sun, shining weakly through this, is casting everything in a creepy orange light and termites — rendered homeless, I’d guess, by the destruction of their homes in Los Padres National Forest — are floating about aimlessly in the air, which I can image they’re not too happy about. Some measure of good news in all this, however: smokers don’t have to shell out for a pack right now. Instead, all they need to do is step outside and take a few deep breaths.

Here’s hoping for bluer skies.

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