Smoke on the mountain

I was born on my mountain. Now, we're not the Walton family, but my family has been in this spot since 1910. I don't recall a time that smoke from a wildfire blanketed our mountain. Even with local fires, we are not surrounded by smoke. Today, the smoky haze outside has drifted a thousand miles, arriving here from Canada. The media reports 161 fires are still burning. At least that's down from the 400+ at the beginning of this month. 

Yesterday, we had a "Code Red" air quality. This morning it's been downgraded to Code Orange. That is still not good. I need to be outside, in the garden, and mowing the grass. I'm healthy so I shouldn't have a problem beyond burning eyes, but I'll wear a mask when I mow. Is this a portent of the world to come? 

This is not the survival I worried about when I retired. I worried about financial things, and not being able to breathe. 

I'm worried my garden isn't getting enough sun through the smoke. How are the trees, the lifeblood of oxygen on this earth, handling the smoke? Where are all the birds? 

And what really worries me is were the Canadian wildfires started by a group of nutjobs out to prove some political point. "Climate change? We'll give you climate change!" This smoke is kin to what happens when a volcano erupts.

I've prepped for a lot of things, but smoke isn't one of them. Now I'm thinking about this added danger and wondering how best to survive it. Maybe there's no point in that. 

The Lady of the Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, rural living, country lifestyle, a writer's life, Canadian wildfires, commentary, prepping, political unrest, human suffering, bleak future