There is fire.  And this time it was across the road from our house.

I didn’t really know what to expect when we came home and saw all the lights from the emergency vehicles on the road in front of our house.  My first thought was that something may have happened to one of the neighbors’ kids.  They’re little, and full of mischief.  It could happen.

Instead we pulled up to the scene and find a patch of grass burned, right up to our mailbox.  The wind was very strong from the south, and the fire was going to head to our house.  I am thankful that our neighbor noticed it and, after not being able to find us at home, called 911.  It’s one of those things that can happen, though this is the first time since we moved in here that it has ever been an issue.  And then there was the discussion: How did it start?

Two theories seem plausible. Either someone threw out a cigarette butt and that started it, or, more likely, the dead grasses produced a mold that then produced heat until the grass smoldered. Like a hay fire that was then fanned to full flame by the wind.

The area smelled like a campfire for a while afterward, and the black patch is there.  It will be replaced by green soon, and will be the only green space in the WPA aside from around the sloughs.

And the biggest lasting impression seems to have gone to Emily.  She was asleep as we pulled up and opened her eyes to all the flashing lights around us.  She was disoriented and scared.  The next day, she spent quite a bit of time at the window looking out and calling back to me, “I don’t see any fire yet, Mom!”  I spent a lot of time hugging her and explaining to her that there won’t be any more fire. The neighbor saw it and called the fire department.  The fire department came and put it out.  But still she watched and asked questions.  It’s her way of figuring it out and getting back to feeling safe.

Yes, there was a fire.

No, it didn’t burn the house.

Yes, we are safe here.

I know, because that’s the first time since we’ve lived here that it happened.

No, the grass was dry and there was a lot of wind, that’s why it was burning.

No, the black part won’t go away right away.

No, the mailbox did not burn.

Because it’s metal, and metal doesn’t really burn, it melts first.

And so on and so forth.  And in answering her questions, I found myself starting to relax more. Yes, we are safe here, and no it didn’t burn the house.   And all is well that ends well.

Here is a picture of Charlie sleeping, just because I can: