It feels like the end of the world here in California. And, as if the fires burning largely unabated weren’t enough, another round of dry lightning is heading our way. I just don’t know how we’re going to make it.
East of us, evacuees are being allowed back to their homes (if they are lucky). However the smoke is still too hazardous to breathe.
The garden is becoming hallucinogenic, perhaps even radioactive.
When the air begins to clear, the hawks circle. Sometimes high; sometimes just over my head. And then …
The magic plant pops to life.