When I headed home from San Francisco, I looked forward to blogging a lot. On our flight back, we could see the Southern California fires from the air.
Though I live right by the beach, this one hit close to home – less than 20 miles away. Saddleback Mountain was on fire all week. It’s the home of the Great Silverado Footrace (see February’s Mental Training or Just Plain Mental?) and the epoch Vision Quest mountain bike race. It’s the home of the infamous Santiago Canyon road ride. More important, home to so many whom were evacuated the past few days, and countless animals and wildlife that could not be saved. What would drive anyone to set that beautiful place on fire? I don’t understand arsonists. Can’t they just get their rocks off working for fireworks companies or the military?
Last week was eerie to say the least. The smoke created its own weather system, trapping in the heat of this normally comfortable coastal community. The sky was a silvery ash. The ocean was a silvery ash. And my car and porch were covered with more layers of ash with each passing day. Pangs of empathy that someone’s cherished things should end up that way. Doors and windows had to remain closed due to unhealthful air conditions. Somehow writing about my fun weekend during this time just would have seemed crass.