I grew up in California with chaparral-covered hills on three sides of our house. And also across the street, as you can see in the photo. That scrubby brush has oily leaves and is drought-resistant. And man, it burns like anything. My dad installed a sprinkler system on the roof of our house.
Most of the big fires were across the narrow valley in Angeles National Forest, but some were in the hills behind our house (La Tuna Canyon). Have we loaded the cars to evacuate? A couple of times, yes.
And wouldn’t it figure, two of the neighborhood kids were fond of setting fires. Ah yes, Jack and Tony, prize delinquents-in-training. How many pre-teens have experience calling the fire department? *Laura waves her hand.*
My heart goes out to the people of northern Idaho, eastern Washington, and eastern Oregon. Fires like these create their own howling winds and become an inferno scary fast. We forget that brave men and women put their lives on the line to fight them. This week three firefighters died in the line of duty.
“It’s only a house. Be safe.” This was on a sign put up by an Idaho family as they evacuated. A timely reminder that possessions are unimportant, and life is fragile.