A Dozen Years through a Haze
A forest fire rages fifty miles north of where I sit typing. I know they are common out west, but I don’t recall one of such significance since I have lived here. The biggest problem for firefighters is the lack of rain. North Georgia hasn’t had significant rainfall since September and forecasters don’t see any in sight. The dry and brittle autumn leaves have turned into a tinder box and the fires rage on. Remarkably, although I am far away, when I go outside I can smell the smoke from the blaze and metro Atlanta is grayed by its smoky haze.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, our second since losing Kylie. Last year I wrote that being thankful was difficult because the enormity of her loss made it hard to reconcile my blessings. I am a pragmatic person and of course I know that I have been blessed beyond measure. But feelings can be tricky things that blot out reason and logic. Read More