Not Out Of The Woods

There is a twinge of guilt when reading about or seeing a wildfire rage in a distant area on the news.  Sorrow and sympathy for humans and wildlife affected are combined with relief that the fire is not close.  Yesterday multiple sirens came screaming up nearby roads and then helicopters roared overhead.  Everything came to a screeching halt here.  Camille called to ask what I could see or what I knew.  Not only was I out on the deck checking the skyline for smoke, but Tree Guy and Mrs. Tree Guy drove up immediately.  Like an old war horse, TG was a wildfire fighter for many years and sirens are like the trumpet call to arms for him.  On top of the hill, my place is the best place in the area to spot smoke.  We never did see any smoke, but the helicopters and spotter planes continued to circle over toward Slug Gulch and/or Omo Ranch.  There is a FB page by and for locals and while TG continued to watch for plumes, I checked online and found that there was a vegetation fire about five miles from here up Slug Gulch behind the previously burned-out Oakstone Winery.  Hmmm.  Wind was coming out of the northwest, which would have sent the fire to the east (another sigh of relief), had it gotten out of control.  All praise and many thanks to the firefighters who got the blaze knocked down within such a short time.  Given the tinder-dry underbrush and drought conditions, we've been so lucky so far in this season, but there's no rain in the forecast and we're not out of those woods yet.

On a much happier note, I got a quick, three-word text from my distant son Pete that brightened my day and gladdened my heart.  Like the smiley faces from Larry or the "Love ya, Mama" from Dave and the chats with Deb and Clay, those little notes are like the touch of a loved one's hand.

In the afternoon, turkeys by the chicken pen all sounded off at the same time.  I went to the window to see what had set them off.  The flock was clumped together, all staring down toward the woods and giving a warning call.  Try as I might, I did not see what they saw/had seen.  Shortly, they all turned and went about their business, so I assume the danger was past and the predator had moved on.  After the goats going on high alert the night before, I know that we're not out of those woods, either.