This is a foul mannered day. Mom & Dad are out a while, so I’m hanging with Happy, to watch in case the day takes a toll on her health.  

A fire – the Day Fire – is burning over near Castaic and Fillmore. 125 square miles devoured so far; it’s been burning for nearly two weeks, since Labor Day. Well, the winds shifted last night, and blew smoke and ash all over Carpinteria.  Its overcast too, and when the sun finds a thin place in the clouds to let a little light seep through, it filters through this acrid crap.   The light is mostly gray, with a tint of sickly orange brown. And just in the last few hours, we’ve been spared the scent of the burning brush. Reminiscent of a campfire, but not in a good way.

The only upside is that it’s not too hot to be indoors with all the windows closed against fallout. Behind these double-paned windows, it’s quiet. Happy is taking a nap.

I guess the summer has been murdered in old age, cremated and sprinkled on the land, unloved and unmourned. So it goes. I’m looking forward to autumn and winter, when the sky will be clear and crisp.