Fiery Thoughts

I'm not exactly sure where the fires are burning, but last night when I was outside watering the garden, the smoke was thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in the back of my throat, elemental and raw. 

As the sun began to set, I took these few shots...

Even the sun looks weird, all wobbly and distorted, struggling to shine through the layers of what just yesterday had been trees, plants, life, before being reduced to nothing more than mere wisps of acrid smoke, drifting across the valley.

I've always found it disturbing, unsettling, that sometimes the best sunsets are the direct result of fire, one of the most destructive forces on the planet.  Shouldn't they be dark and wretched?  Mournful and sad?  Instead, the skies are colored with vibrant reds and oranges, yellows and pinks.  Is that because the smoke contains remnants of all those tiny particles of life?

I heard a song once by Hoyt Axton, the country music singer.  I'm not into country really, though this one line has stayed in my mental jukebox ever since:

"I'm going to heaven in a flash of fire..."

 

Mother Nature holds a beautiful wake.