Hot dry winds have returned to the land of fruits and nuts. After baking away all summer long in the blistering sun, the dense sage and chaparral covering the coastal hillsides and canyons and the inland mountain forests are dry and toasty. Vegetated areas are a giant tinderbox.
What happens next is as predictable as night follows day. Just one spark – from a downed powerline or a backfiring semi-truck – and the whole thing conflagrates into a blistering windblown wildfire. The Golden State goes up in smoke. The sky turns to an orange haze; the sunsets are magnificent. And ash sprinkles down and coats the pavement with residue.
Of course, this happens every year. And every year is the worst year ever. The fires rage until the mild winter weather arrives. Then everyone seemingly forgets the fires ever happened…until the mudslides.
Indeed, California is a whacky and wild place. The Governor’s an absolute loon who fancies himself a leading presidential candidate for the 2024 election. Continue reading







