I was woken up this morning by the crash of thunder that cracked over the roof. I jumped up and looked out the front window at Eagle Mountain, checking that the scenery looked intact. Flashes of lightning and peals of thunder continued, but the rest of the house was asleep, so I went back to bed. But as I lay there, staring at the intermittently lit-up ceiling, my sense of smell was piqued. I detected something other than stale smoke, something more fresh. So I got up again and went outside to get a better sniff, but everything seemed as it should be. The feeling of vigilance now had me truly awake, so I decided that 5am was a reasonable time to make coffee and start writing this newsletter.
Our family has been very lucky this summer. We have grown a garden, our kids have played sports outside, our home is safe, and we have been able to go camping. But this is the first wildfire season that those close to us have lost their homes and livelihoods, where life has become an effort to survive. So much more could be said about the changes we are all experiencing, but whether we are directly or indirectly impacted, we each live with a heightened feeling of vigilance. We are each responsible for keeping ourselves, our families, and our community safer.
