The last time there was a fire in my backyard was about nine years ago. And I think the time before that was when I was in third grade. That was the worst case I faced. We were the next group on the list to evacuate.
I hate it when it happens though. The smoke and the ash make everyone have horrible allergies, and everyone monitors the wind because that basically decides whether the firefighters will be able to contain the fire.
Then there are the nosy, noisy people who have nothing better to do with their insignificant lives on a Saturday night, so they drive up our street just to get a closer view of the fire and the helicopters, and they start taking pictures and yelling at 2 AM. I wanted to pick up a loudspeaker and tell them to shut the &*@# up! But if I did that and saw them at church the next morning, that would not be a very good witness for Jesus.
Why do these fires start? Most of the time I think it’s because some stupid person goes up into the canyon, lights a cigarette and then throws it somewhere without putting it out. Then because the air is so dry, the fire spreads so quikcly. Or maybe some idiot just thinks it’s funny to cause drama. Or maybe some incredibly rude man/woman is jealous that the people who live around here are richer than they are, and they purposely start a fire in hopes of burning homes.
Or maybe I’m just angry at people in general, and it was just a plain accident.
Anyway, I wish they would just block people from going into the mountains when the weather is dry. End of discussion.
Untold Tales by a Whimsical Wallflower 