Is a burning Fall the payment for a drenched Spring?
When you're packing up to head out of Dodge, it is telling when you review which books to bring. I grabbed 3.
The Hero and the Crown, by Robin McKinley
The Book, by Anonymous
and a research guide on book collecting, which I have yet to read.
The fires here are nearly put out, the local fire fellows cutting lines in the earth as a dare, standing together with their hats askew and shovels ready.
I'm home again, but the books remain in my briefcase, snugged with writings and mock-ups. The lack of space for oxygen within the case lends an extra level of protection, its weight disguising it as a box of bricks- perhaps to fool the flames.
Next time, though (if there is a next time, and up here there tends to be), instead of heading out of Dodge, I'll stick around the store and keep checking updates, start a physical message board and place to let the fire people cool their heals. I'll keep the coffee brewing.
I ran off the hill with my critters and my spouse when we could see the flames from the front porch, but we were safe.
Some friends were not so lucky.
