The fires burn miles away, over two ridges of mountains at least, so there is no danger here. Compared to those on the front lines, the effects here are mild: falling ash, the smell of smoke tinting every breath and lungs that are beginning to protest. One aesthetic benefit of the fires is the rose filtered glow sunlight that paints everything with a warm radiant light.
But on this second day of “fire season” this hill of foxtails and grasses have been given notice. They are on alert! Soon enough, for the greater good and safety of the neighborhood all dried fellows will be gone – starting tomorrow. The gorgeous sunset created by huge plumes of smoke driven by the wind, is the denouement to their season of spring growth.
The weed whippers, shovels and hoes are being loaded in the truck, the workers are gathering water bottles and coolers, and these weeds are having a sunset party – their last one this season. Tomorrow is brush clearing day, and judging from the appetite of the wildfires here in So. Cal. we’d better not hesitate.
Farewell dried weeds! You knew the end would come, and yet you lived a strong, graceful and inspiring life. I look forward to your next generation of new green sprouts.
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.
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