Yellow sky at dawn

The morning dawned an eery yellow but the sky remained dark to the west, a black cloud spreading. Back home in Minnesota, the mustard glow can mean only one thing: tornado weather. But here in Southern California, it’s a different story. I knew there must be a fire somewhere not far away. A big fire.

A quick check of the TV confirms it. Houses are going up in smoke a few miles to the northeast. Families have been evacuated but many animals were left behind in the rush. A firefighter tries in vain to reach a horse in a burning corral. He turns back as thick smoke rises from the nearby house. A goat follows him helplessly. In another neighborhood, a fireplace and chimney are all that’s left standing of a large house. The rubble extends down the street, home after home destroyed.

Here in our seemingly safe city neighborhood, ashes fall from the ominous sky and people look up nervously.

[Update: An eight-mile-long wall of fire is marching westward through the suburbs toward the city. At least two people have died, scorched in their car as they tried to escape. Firefighters are overwhelmed. TV cameras don't show any crews at all along this front, and the planes that dump huge buckets of ocean water on blazes are gone, fighting another fire in another county. The Santa Ana winds whipping the flames aren't expected to die down until Tuesday. I can smell the smoke even with the windows closed. This is going to be bad, very bad.]