The other evening, I ventured into a salt valley in the western Utah desert hoping for a glimpse of the sky. Smoke from California’s three hundred thousand burning acres drifted in acrossNevada and into Utah.
Ghostly tendrils fill our valleys and lungs with stinging haze. Is this the new normal for summer in the Western States?
The evening deepened as the sun sank well past the horizon. It’s light diffusing into red fumes, I watched the slow moving wall of smoke from the west cascade upon me and blur the nightsky into indistinct point of color.
Mars, the red planet, is close to us now visible to the left of the Milky Way. At night I feel as if it is a small sun shining it’s ocher light upon us, reminding us it once too flowed with water.