It’s almost 1:30AM as I write this. I shot this image standing on Grand yesterday evening — or maybe it was Arroyo Drive. I’m addle-brained from a day of watching the Station Fire triple in size and leap across my beloved San Gabriel mountains like some kind of demon lightening bug doped up on speed and steroids.
The smoke is extremely intense here now, and it is really uncomfortable to breathe outside for any length of time. For the first time since moving into our charming 110 year old house with original fixtures, I actually understand the concept of duo-pane vinyl windows. We have towels rolled up against our drafty door jams, paper towels stuffed into the gaps of our original sash windows, the AC pumping air through a 3M filter and a portable air purifier cranked up to high.
It still feels somewhat like being inside a mesquite barbecue pit.
I can’t explain how surreal it felt earlier tonight to actually see flames in the mountains as I turned the corner to my house. We’ve all seen movies of huge fireballs sweeping across ridges. It’s unsettling when it’s so close to home.
I’ll update here with news as it unfolds.