Sunday, January 12, 2014
Red flag warning
It's dry. It's drier than I can remember, in the 15 years since we moved to California.
We hiked in Red Rock Canyon yesterday, and the creek, which in past Januarys has been full, fast and flowing, was bone dry. No puddles teeming with tadpoles. Not a trickle. Not a drop. Most years, at this time, tender green grass and annual wildflowers are sprouting up, greening the hills. Not this year - there's nothing growing.
The Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy has already, this early, weed-whacked dry vegetation back some fifty feet or more from the fire roads.
It's dry skin weather; bloody nose weather. My hands feel like sandpaper, my hair crackles with static electricity.
Though the nights are chill, today a hot wind was blowing through the canyon as I walked Jack, and the trees swayed and tossed. There's a red flag warning out. At Fire Station 69, the sign is posted for Extreme Fire Danger. It's supposed to get warmer in the next few days.
At evening, the winds suddenly stilled. The sunset was brilliant, hot and pink.