The clarity and vibrance of the color on the mountains, and
the rising mists coming up off of the valley as the sun comes up, are potent
reminders of what was regularly stolen away from the landscape by the fire
smoke. One breathes in the fresh, crisp air: the season is turning, the first
rains are coming in, and the early frosts are gradually lifting some of the
weight off of the local farmers’ backs. The necessity of the coming winter puts
local farming to rest in the region, to be put off until the sun’s intensity
comes back in the coming spring, with the fires soon to follow. Of course there
are the winter snows to keep in mind
now, as the surplus moisture set in motion by climate change can still be
counted on to make its appearance. Still, there is joy in the valley as the
various burdens of high heat are lifted.
On a personal note, whooboy that smoke was grim: it even turns up in the writing, as if my fingers were turning to stone as I tried to get the ideas out. Breathing fresh air for the time being, and the mind is somewhat clear and fresh again. More to come.
