Before leaving Santa Barbara, California, nearby wildfires raged for days, burning over 80,000 acres. The smoke closed major freeways while high winds whipped the fire into a land-eating frenzy. On this day, the air smelled heavy of burnt wood, ash-covered cars, plants, and homes. People walked the beach with respirators, and the sun’s rays barely pierced the thick haze. I waited for a breeze to clear the air or an earthquake to shake the fire to its knees while the palm trees stood a silent vigil, waiting for the blue skies to return.
