It rained all through the night and into the morning, and everything is different. The road is shining like a river now. The canyon is fragrant. Tiny blades of green have suddenly erupted, and the leaves are dripping and glittering like sequins. Monte and I splashed our way through puddles and walked as far as we could until our route became too slippery with thick, sticky mud, and we turned back, walking through raindrops that were suspended in the air like a veil of diamonds. The broad leaves of the sycamore trees are a vivid yellow, almost comical, and the toyon berries are glossy red, and we heard a canyon wren singing through the woods. We are visitors in an enchanted land.
Sadly, this weather that washed us bright and clean and then settled over us like a magic spell has brought great harm to the communities to the south of us that were closer to the fire. There have been multiple deaths and much destruction due to flooding and mudslides, and many people are still uprooted. The local news reports encompass everything from inconvenience to tragedy, and one of my own dear friends has been evacuated again.
As always, there are so many concurrent realities, and it’s impossible to contain all of it, but I have spent today on a peaceful island, feeling lucky, and loathe to leave.