August 3, 2021

Untitled photo

In the Summer of the Smoke, when the sun sets fire-red into the haze a half hour sooner and rises out of it a half hour later, and even then is so weak it barely casts a shadow, the constant reminder of fires burning thousands upon thousands of acres far away, it smells and feels much closer to home. Maybe we are all connected. Maybe we should be paying attention. Maybe we need to take actions. Maybe there is such a thing as climate change. Just maybe.