Today's sunrise in Laguna Niguel.  "It's only smoke and ashes, baby."

The winds have shifted, leaving a thick blanket of smoke over Laguna Niguel.  Even up on our hill, ash drifts down lazily as more fires burn today than burned yesterday. 

There is a constant stream of phone calls and emails.  "Are you safe?"  "How's your family?"  Nice to hear the concern in the voice of a friend.  It's a small comfort, a blessing, a balm for frayed nerves.

Frayed because there is a constant barrage of news--images of burned houses, terrified animals, refugees.  None of it expected or imagined by these folks a week ago and now, whole lives are suddenly set on an unfamiliar path.

Frayed also because any survivor knows the pain that limns every image, the personal behind the sound bite. 

And speaking of sound bites, Bush is supposed to be in Socal today, to "check on" Federal Assistance levels.  The administration claims to have learned valuable lessons from Katrina.  I hope that the lessons are deeper than how to manage his image.  I picture some staffer is brushing off his chambray shirt and saying, "Remember nobody's doing a heckuva job.  You are concerned.  You are involved in managing this crisis."

Instead, I wish someone was asking him to reconsider his visit.  We've got enough going on here without a Presidential visit.  I understand it's a tough call...a flyover doesn't seem like enough and staying in Washington seems political suicide.  Still.

So I'll be lying low today, staying inside as the news is recommending, avoiding the accumulation of ash in my lungs and the accumulation of media frenzy in my brain.

Trying to focus on getting through the stack of papers on my desk in preparation for Nanowrimo.  Waiting for the skies to clear.

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