Ben blogs from the inferno
In my last dispatch, I reflected that maybe it would have been a good idea to clear the dry brush from our backyard before the outbreak of the largest wildfire in California history. Woulda coulda shoulda. Too late.
The wind shifted. Hard. I kept looking out my front window every ten minutes or so. The smoke was getting thicker. Was it getting hotter? My neighbor across the street thought so. About 10 minutes to 3:00, I went into my next door neighbor's backyard. Their wall is adjacent to the main boulevard that runs to our neighborhood, across from which a 20-foot-high wall of flame, driven by extremely hard Santana winds, moved quickly through the open, brush-filled field. The fire was maybe 15 feet from the road.
(Update: A week later I revisited this post and found that it was Ben who posted, not David. My apologies to Ben, David, RobbL, and that monkey in the zoo I made fun of when I was six years old.)