This article will be different from my usual posts because I just want to share what’s going on in my neck of the woods, especially for my friends who don’t live around here. It’s a bit overwhelming, even if you do live here, so I hope to share what it’s like right now in order to bring you some insight into the situation. Backstory: we had little snow in the high elevations this past winter and little to no rain in the spring. Everyone knows California is suffering from an epic drought, but maybe not too many know what that actually means in terms of daily life. There are mandatory restrictions on watering. I can only water my lawn three days of the week. That, combined with near record high temperatures for over a month now, has resulted in a pretty brown lawn. If my lawn is brown, getting watered three times a week, just imagine what the forest and grasslands are like. And I live in the far northern part of the state. It’s even worse in the south. So, on July 30th, 2014 a thunderstorm rolled through. It brought a little rain and a lot of lightning. The moisture and humidity was welcome, but short-lived. Within 24-48 hours, a few little fires which had been ignited by the lightning turned into immense wildfires. This screen shot, which was posted on Facebook, gives an idea of where these fires are located in relation to where I live–Yreka, CA.

So, as you can see, at least six major wildfires within 30 miles of town. The air was heavy with smoke and ash, and the temperatures were well into the nineties, pushing one hundred.

But, the really amazing thing is what happened next. With people, homes, and livestock threatened, the superheroes started to appear. There was a Facebook page started with offers of space, trailers, and transport for animals and livestock in harms way. The same day the page was created, it already had nearly 800 members. In a town with a population of less than 8,000, this is truly impressive. Next, the firefighters started arriving–in droves. Every motel in town was filled. All their parking lots housed fire trucks. They came from practically every town in California, and many towns from other states, too. I’ve seen fire trucks from Colorado, South Dakota, Washington, and Oregon. I’m sure there are other states represented here that I’ve missed, but all are appreciated, and admired. Then, the National Guard arrived. Our little town has at least doubled, maybe even tripled in population in less than a week. The local high school has been transformed into a command post. With school starting in a few weeks, all athletic practices have been cancelled. Why? Because the soccer/football/baseball fields are now temporary home to our visiting heroes.

This is where these guys live for now, in tents behind the high school. You can see how heavy the smoke is in the background.

This is the baseball field, down the hill from the soccer field. More firefighters can get a little shuteye between shifts.

This this the vacant lot between the high school and the gas station. A staging area for water trucks, bulldozers, and other heavy equipment. I am amazed, inspired, and utterly grateful to everyone who has rallied around us in this time of need. And I’m not the only one. Signs are popping up all over town thanking the dedicated and selfless men and women who have come to our aid.

This sign covers the regular sign of the salon just two doors down from my house. And, as I was walking over there to take this photo, a fire truck rolled down the street. As I smiled and waved at them, they honked their fire truck horn at me and waved back. I checked the emblem on the side of their truck to see where they were from, and smiled again when I saw they were from Etna. One of the local towns besieged by the fires.

This post is dedicated to everyone who has come together to help in a time of need. Average citizens and highly trained firefighters, politicians and military personnel, business owners and land owners, kids and senior citizens, locals and people who live far away–a heartfelt thanks to you all. My faith in humanity has been restored. The fires are still burning, but progress is being made. The air was a little clearer today, fewer homes are threatened, and the county fair opened. It looks like we’re gonna make it.