The neighborhood I grew up in is on fire. Rumors are that the high school I went to burned down. The pond area where we used to sneak off to drink beer has been burned, so has the place where I once had a picnic and got more than a little frisky with my high school boyfriend, until we got chased off by a bear. I wonder if the bear escaped the fire. I wonder how long bears live, it’s been 15 years.

I remember one summer when I was a kid where we had fires burning all around the basin. The sky was pink and gray from smoke and everything smelled like a fireplace in winter because of all the burning pine. There was only one road out of the basin that wasn’t consumed by fire. This fire is worse.

People are being evacuated to the Rec Center. It’s weird to think that the place where I took swimming and ballet lessons is now housing a bunch of families whose houses have been turned to ash and cinder. It’s also weird to read about people running towards the Y, a shopping center at the south end of town where I worked for an entire two weeks as a waitress and realized I never wanted to be paid minimum wage to deal with other people’s food again. I thought that particular place was hell, the idea of people running towards it seems wrong in so many ways.

I hope the fire gets controlled soon, for the sake of the people and the bear.