This morning wake up to the smell of campfires. For a moment - just a moment - I think to myself that the house is on fire. But it's fine. It's the world that's on fire.
The nearby mountains, invisible, eyes watering, you need to chew before you can breathe.
It's intolerable, and we're not yet even close to August.
Check the news to ensure there are no fires closer - time again to reconsider that flight bag - I can pack everything I own into the jeep, and probably should take an hour or two to do so - and I'm wondering - how long will the restaurant last in this? Soon, I imagine, there will be an exodus of tourists - and then?
Day to day.