The world is burning. Right now, our air quality index is at 569. That’s the DANGER range, ya’ll.
I took this photo of my garden, which is currently showing off all its July splendor, and noticed that the lake behind it is hardly visible due to the smoke. The only way to avoid breathing in this debilitating smoke is to stay indoors. As of now, the flowers seem indifferent.
During the last two summers the wildfires were deep in the Canadian wilderness. There were days when the sun glowed red and the essence of campfire permeated the forest. Today, however, we can hardly see the sun and it smells like a building is burning right next door. But it’s not a building. It’s Minnesota.
We are praying for wind and rain.
Thirty-five years ago The Montclarion newspaper in the San Francisco Bay Area published what may have been my most popular column, “My Foggy Garden.” I thought of it after snapping the garden photo and looked to the album of column clips that my mother had made. To my surprise, the publish date was July 16, 1991. So it was exactly 35 years ago.
A LOT has changed for my garden and me in 35 years. We’re still growing … and we’re getting hotter.
