. . . to see a faint yellow-orange glow that surely comes from the ambient lights over the town. Of course they wouldn't appear white at this range. And I know stark white lights went out of fashion in the late 70s/early 80s: I distinctly remember looking out at the view over the Whittier Hills from my grandparents' deck when the transition was almost complete—but you could still see some white lights mixed in with the off-yellow ones, all the way out to Catalina Island.

When the air is dirtier it hides Catalina, but it changes the light; that's why sunsets are prettiest on smoggy days. The contrast with my laptop screen makes good, virtuous city lights appear even more yellow, natch.

But I'm jittery; I just Google-Newsed "fire" to make sure Pasadena wasn't in flames all over again.

Once when A the H was in Cambodia I awoke in the big bed to the smell of smoke, and a faint bit of light over the hill. I threw on shoes and a T-shirt—a tight one, it turned out—and set out on the road. I felt that with my husband out of town I needed to be especially careful about protecting the homestead. Sure enough, one of the sheriff's deputies had blocked the road around the corner near the girl's school, and I had a brief conversation with him. Rather, I talked to him, and he talked to my chest, explaining to my breasts that there was a tiny brush fire on the slope below, but it was already contained, and the fire department was simply continuing to check that no embers remained that might spark and create problems later. He told my breasts that the neighborhood was surely safe, but if the fire re-sparked, they would certainly go door-to-door and wake everyone up to evacuate the area. It was okay for my breasts to go back to sleep.

I inferred from that that it was safe for the rest of me to sleep as well.

Back home, snuggled under a very light blanket—with the window still open, to awaken me if the smoke got worse or the fire went on the move—I dreamed about orange light, smoky air, and my husband far away in steamy Southeast Asia. I remember thinking that wasn't the most practical place for him, at that moment.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:19 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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