Los Angeles, CA
It's like a pitcher plant made out of smoke. Getting in is the easy part. Getting out- well, that's a little more problematic. The other side of the freeway is a parking lot. My side is clear sailing. Of course it is. We're the crazy fuckers driving toward the fire.
The sunrise is spectacular. Deep orange and reds behind me as the sunlight punches through miles of real estate sent into the air. Happens every year around this time. Wish I could drive PCH home. The sunset will be amazing. But I can't. It's on fire.
I should take a moment to say that I'm perfectly safe. The fire's miles away. At least ten. You can taste it, see the smoke. Take a deep breath you'll get a lungful of ash. All the cars are covered in it. Kind of air that goes well with a good Islay single malt. If you've got a nicotine habit, you probably won't notice.
The one I'm near right now, the Canyon Fire in Malibu, is about 10% contained. That's pretty good considering the weather and terrain. Seven this morning and it was 80 degrees. The winds are calmer than yesterday, but we've still got the Santa Anas to contend with.
Other fires are still completely out of control. The Harris and Witch Fires in San Diego, the nightmare that is Irvine. Know a kid got evac orders last night in San Diego. I hope he's okay.
Agua Dulce around the 5 and 14 Freeways is a mess. It's mostly scrub brush out there, but the wrong breeze at the wrong time and there are homes and friends in jeopardy.
Now's a good time to be somewhere else.