Red Like the Weather
The weather maps are an angry red, the color itself screaming danger and pain. I’m fascinated by those air currents carrying extreme heat and smoke over the country, currents that, until recently, had remained mostly anonymous to those of us living in the illusion of safety that cities provide. I remember my father learning about them and about the clouds they unceremoniously push around as part of a bush pilot training program. “Cumulonimbus,” he’d say, pointing at a shape in the sky, and I’d learn to recognize the white fluff too. I wonder what he would think of all this.