I hadn’t smelled smoke or seen flames the day of the fire but there were dozens of police cars and an ambulance and firetruck blocking the road that enters my neighborhood. There were flashing lights filling an entire block. There were police cars stationed at the bridge over the creek and a couple of blocks up the road to keep traffic from getting through. If I hadn’t gone out yesterday, I might not have known about the fire —that is until the black leaves started falling. 

I was walking the dogs and I noticed black leaves all over the meadow and the yard in front of my house. They were charred and bubbly. I had no idea where they’d come from but they made me feel a weird sort of dread and panic. We are in a drought. Had my neighbor been burning leaves? I imagined that one of those leaves could have landed on the roof of my house or studio and changed my life forever. 

It’s been bone dry for weeks. I can’t even remember when it rained last but yesterday, not long after I saw the firetruck and knew there was a fire, a thunderstorm blew through and wet everything. The timing was eerie.

This morning everything is damp and there is a light soft fog surrounding my house. The leaves on many of the trees have started to fall or turn yellow. Those yellow leaves in the soft filtered foggy light of morning made everything sparkle. It is a beautiful morning—except for the acrid, oily smell that lingers after a fire.

The fire seems to have happened up on the hill above the water. I have never seen the house up there. It isn’t visible from the road. I’ve just seen glimpses of white siding and a gray roof through the trees when I go down to the water in winter. I drive past the entrance to the property every day but the driveway twists and turns up the hill obscuring the view. I have heard them running power tools and chain saws up there but I have no idea who they are or what they are doing and now something up there had burned. Dreams and property up in smoke. 

I worry that the rain may have washed residue from the burning structure down into the creek. The stink in the air smells like chemicals but who knows what it might be. I didn’t like the idea of breathing it either. I’d like to walk down to the water to see if I could get a better idea what had happened but everything is so overgrown right now and the smell from the fire smells so awful and toxic, I decided not to go down there. Not today anyway.