Spooky

Four years ago when I was in bed with my foot in a cast, I heard on the news, interspersed with stories about the choice of an unknown governor from Alaska, aka Sarin Palin as John McCain's running mate, about a fire that was raging through Fallbrook.

How little things actually change. This whole story could be happening now (with a few name changes and without the cast). It turns out that the fire raced up the canyon below my brother's house and burned right up to his back door. The firefighters made a stand in his driveway, and his son, also a firefighter, made sure that the propane tank and the ethanol tank on his property didn't blow up. Trapped in my cast, I learned only that my brother and his wife had safely evacuated and were staying elsewhere. Not that there was much I could have done anyway.

The neighborhood was saved and I didn't get the full story until months later, when we came for a visit and my brother's wife filled me in on all the details. They returned to their beautiful house overlooking the burned out canyon and lived for two weeks with no power except what they could get from a portable generator which they ran for a few hours a day to keep the food in the refrigerator from spoiling.

We got up at dawn again this morning to go for a walk before it got too hot. This tree, with a hawk in it, is a remnant of the fire which almost got the whole neighborhood. Now it's Paul Ryan instead of Sarah Palin, and the Ponderosa fire is raging instead of the Rice Canyon fire. Some things (most things) never change....