From our friends' Bear Valley house, high above the city, we watch the orange cloud of smoke saunter into town. The late night sun turns brilliant red and we all stand on the deck to watch.
"Its gonna be smoky again tomorrow."
"I hope its not as bad as yesterday."
"Hopefully it will clear out again by afternoon."
The smoke hails from the Funny River wildfire on the Kenai, almost 100,000 acres burning, with dry windy conditions in the weekend forecast.
The air quality in Anchorage was so poor on Thursday, the last day of school, that the district reccomended all activities take place inside. We spent recess in the classroom. By afternoon we could see the mountains again and the sun shone, but I could still feel the smoke in my eyes, my lungs.
I can't imagine what it's like for residents who live far closer to the fire. Or for the hundreds of men and women who work the lines.
I raise my glass to firefighters everywhere. And to all emergency workers who respond to events the rest of us flee.
As we return to the comfort of home, only slightly affected by the ashen air we breathe, others barely sleep in their work to stop the flames.
And I just want to say thank you.
Comments