Wild fires are raging throughout Southern California.
Last night, I was reading J. G. Ballard’s Millenium People (thanks Lean, it’s great!) outside on the balcony, when the Santa Ana winds whipped up suddenly, blowing hot and dry and laden with ash — then the coyotes started howling.
It felt very much like the end of the world… freaky stuff.
Everything is covered in ash; the air smells of wood smoke; the sun is a minute cent-at-arm’s-length red disc; everything is lit in a very odd reddish-orange tint. And the nearest fire is 30 or so miles away. I’d hate to see what they’re like up close…
Somehow I missed all this in Australia… I hear Sydney was like this for a week over Christmas that year.