May 22, 2003
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FIRE HAZE
I searched the web today for a weather map to illustrate what’s making our sky as murky as LA on a bad day. I didn’t find one, so I grabbed the Kodak and went out to capture some more immediate illustrations.
Forest fires in Russia are sending a plume of smoke across northeastern Asia and the Bering Sea. Local weather reports here are saying, “Sunny but hazy.” That is a clear, unclouded sky in the shot at left. This weather pattern is expected to last through Memorial Day weekend.
Pidney and Grammy Mousebreath apparently thought I needed their protection, so they went with me. In the week or so since my last photo blog, the muskeg dried out enough for us to walk across it, first time I’ve been out there this year since the ice melted. Some close inspection of the strip running from center left to upper right below will show that the marsh grass out there is beginning to produce new green growth.
This weather has been going on for a few days already. The cats and Koji, and Doug and I, keep accumulating crud in the corners of our eyes. We sneeze and cough–though it’s hard to tell, with us primates, whether the cough is more from the smoky air or from the effects of that cold we’ve had all month.
This time of year the sun does go down below the northern horizon for a few hours of twilight each night. The long hours of sunshine usually keep things warm, but this haze has brought a chill. We had let the fire go out in the wood stove last month, but had to rekindle it recently.
These shots have only been resized, and not manipulated any other way. That’s the way the sky looks to my eyes right now. It would make a good setting for a post-apocalyptic epic… or an apocalyptic one, when you factor in the news of the day.
My Pollyanna-positive attitude is taking on a bit of tarnish lately. I understand this. My detachment is not there any more. For the last couple of weeks, I have not allowed myself to pull up the shields when what I sense psychically or see on TV makes me want to weep. I weep for my world. I weep for the Russian forests, the beached whales, the bereaved mothers and children. When my tears have washed the neurochemical traces of grief away, I surround the planet in white light and count my blessings. That takes a while, and pretty soon I realize they are countless. Then I get back to work.
Comments (7)
That’s scary.
Do you ever have problems with fires in Alaska. We have a lot here in Oregon. Every darn year.
mom alert…mom alert
you breathing alright? be careful!!!
Liviatasia: yes, we have fires. We have an infestation of Asian spruce bark beetles, too, and huge numbers of standing, dead, resinous spruce trees that pose extreme fire hazard. The state and many private landowners are working to get those trees cut down and burned under controlled conditions.
Lucky: I started taking my asthma meds again a day or two ago. I’m wheezing like a leaky pipe organ, but still breathing.
::empathises::
Oh, SuSu, I’m so sorry to hear of those conditions happening right now. Those Russian fires are a serious matter. I too grieve for all the wildlife that is being affected. Very sad. Lets hope it dissipates soon.
Unfortunately, I’m one who doesn’t seem able to ‘pull up my shields’ anymore. There are some of us who need to help make others aware of the realities, rather than the propaganda.
Several of my kitties follow me when I walk around outside. I sometimes have to be careful of that, since they tend to wander into the roadway, where cars sometimes fly at nearly twice the speedlimit. I’ve lost too many of my companions to idiots & often wish my road was NOT paved or I lived on a larger property, further out of civilization.