It's raining, and cool.
After breakfast,
I'll clean the cellar.
In the hills near my sisters in East San Diego,
the Valley Fire rages, 11% contained.
Their cars are packed, warned that evacuation is
uncertain,
and could happen quickly.
If this weather contrast were animals,
my northern cold
could be a Costa Rican three-toed sloth,
its slow metabolism creeping
like coolness through the body.
Fire's a bee, seizing the urgency of its
energy as fuel, and forcing itself
to feed,
to spread seed,
make make more of itself.
After breakfast,
I'll clean the cellar.
In the hills near my sisters in East San Diego,
the Valley Fire rages, 11% contained.
Their cars are packed, warned that evacuation is
uncertain,
and could happen quickly.
If this weather contrast were animals,
my northern cold
could be a Costa Rican three-toed sloth,
its slow metabolism creeping
like coolness through the body.
Fire's a bee, seizing the urgency of its
energy as fuel, and forcing itself
to feed,
to spread seed,
make make more of itself.