fire and wind

I went to Laughing Monk this afternoon to help write postcards to voters in Virginia, and then I went for a walk at Candlestick with A and her dog W. It was warm -- it felt like 80 -- and that was a little disconcerting, given the fires up north. I don't have much to say about the fires because they are too horrific. It's terrible to think about all the houses burned, the people who have died, the firefighters (including the prisoners) who have been struggling to contain the fires. The aftermath isn't quite here yet, as far as I can tell from reading about it online. But the air in my corner of SF was much less smoky today.

After I got home I watered out front. Then I went in and called Wallace; we chatted about his treatment and his recovery reading list while I brought in the clothes that I had hung out back, washed a few dishes, and started making myself dinner. He has been in and out of the hospital this past week. It is odd, I barely know him and yet I'm concerned about his prognosis. I guess that's not odd, really. It's human.