Fire Season #8

A brief and delightful reprieve from fires and smoke

This is a free post from The Real Sarah Miller, my eighth about fire season. I do hope that people who can or want to pay will support this newsletter. Those who can’t or don’t feel moved to for whatever reason absolutely don’t have to. All readers are appreciated.*

photo by molly fisk

I had thought I would stay in Los Angeles longer. It is the only place I have ever really felt at home, but that’s another story. Anyway, T. flew down there to visit me for the weekend and to drive my car with Ruthie back up to Nevada County (Ruthie and Los Angeles weren’t getting along too well, I’m writing about that next) and when he was packing up on Tuesday to leave I found I couldn’t not go with them. I just wanted to be with my little family, fires or not.

We got back Tuesday night, pretty late, because our car broke down in Coalinga. Ruthie wrote up a detailed account of that experience, though she did fail to describe what ended up being wrong with the car. The plastic dust guard on the bottom had come loose and dragged horribly on on the ground, ably mimicking a much-worse problem. T. and the tow truck guy had to cut it off, and now I need a new one, but considering how bad it had sounded and that we thought the engine was messed up and we’d have to get a tow all the way to Fresno to get it fixed, it was a relief.

It has been beautiful lately and not too hot or smoky. “Actually, the moment you fled to Los Angeles after the fire in Grass Valley it got really nice, pretty much,” the Badger told me Wednesday.

Thursday night and early Friday morning it rained in Nevada County for the first time in ages. It didn’t rain hard, but it definitely rained, it didn't just sprinkle or mist. Just about everyone I know including us got up before dawn to go stand outside. I had to wipe off Ruthie’s paws so she wouldn’t get the bed dirty and I was so happy to see a wet towel by the door again. 

On Saturday morning I drove to Donner Lake with my friend Molly. The water is an incredible bright blue and has a coldness to match, although the people who swim in it a lot say it’s warmer than usual. I didn’t want to think about this too much. A wind came up and waves crashed on our faces. 

Afterward we went to the good burrito place and ate outside. There wasn’t a lot to say, we just reveled in the feeling of having just swum in cold water, and the blue sky. “Smoke is a terrible thing,” Molly said. “It’s so nice to not have any right now.” When I got home a friend of mine called me and eventually we got around to the subject of climate collapse. “Not today,” I said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Sunday I went to Donner Lake again, this time with T. and another friend, who I’ll call Philadelphia, and her toddler, little Philly, for someone’s birthday party.  I don’t really like kids all that much but Philly has a good vibe, even when she is squeaking or crying for more snacks. That kids loves snacks. Sunday was hotter than Saturday, with a strong, hot wind, and a vivid blue cloudless sky. I swam by myself for a while, thrilled to be back in this water so soon. As I was coming up from the shore to the picnic spot, I saw that the Badger had arrived, with more snacks. I helped myself to many of them. “That wind is concerning,” the Badger said, and we all grimly agreed that it was but then we all laughed and ate more of his cheese. I swam again with the Badger and we tried and failed to swim freestyle in the choppy water. 

On the way home, Philly ate more snacks, and Philadelphia said to her, “Ok, now say, “Thank you snacks!” 

“Thank you, snacks!” Philly said, and we all repeated it, “Thank you, snacks!”

It is Tuesday morning. I am going back to Donner and enjoying every nice day, every nice hour.

photo by molly fisk

*I write about other things too, like the terrible show sex/life, and have one podcast called Very Specific Interviews, and another one, about movies that my co-host Joshua Clover and I haven’t and won’t see, called Didn’t See It, Don’t Need To.