With coffee set to brew, I water the garden. Sunday, we had picnicked on the coast, fanned by a gentle breeze. Monday night the winds churned in crazy directions. Now Tuesday morning the sky is smoky-brown as I spray the plants. Soon, I would learn that Santa Rosa was on fire.
It’s hard to describe the reaction when a loud speaker atop a Sheriff’s car is demanding that you leave your home NOW. ...
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2017