California burns spectacularly every summer. Nasaphoto below is from 2007 but we've burned down every summer that I remember and I shall be 71 this year. Certainly it's not a conflagratinous attack on me alone --there are many local infernos recorded before I was born and renounced Hell. Also, we Californians have got very careful with matches and have used ashtrays for several days.
But most puzzling, yes enigmatic, of all is this: After centuries of devastating wildfires, how could anything combustible still remain in our state? Like any Rationalist, I went outside and asked my cat.
I found Tux. He was doing sentry duty on an old dead tree stump. I asked what was going on. He said:
"My brother, Hairy, is sneaking through the fence to see why our neighboring field is all dried up and flammable."
"Tux, there's been tragedy over there. My friend of over 60 years died last week and there's nobody to plant or water anything. Another friend from childhood moved back to the Vineyard 2 years ago and he'll see to the mowing. We're safe enough."
"Can we discuss this over a meal of dehydrated mice?"
"Oh Tux, I'm no deipnosophist, but appreciate the offer. Now I must try to address the world."
"Sure, do it!"
"Dear world, is anybody besides me having horrible problems uploading images onto Blogger from PC "pictures". Never happened to me before but tonight it's a major enigma."