Scene from an email

Just a closing paragraph

I'm not keeping up with correspondence or writing nearly enough these days, but a weeklong camping/hunting trip last week was a decent excuse to delay. Slept in a fire lookout. Sunsets reflected on top of each other at angles from the four windows, so the trees in silhouette grew from purple clouds. My own ghost face looked not the least bit god-like in the sky. The fires have burnt everything, my man. It's going ecosystem by ecosystem, from the top of the mountains downhill. I didn't realize it while I was fighting fires, up close in the obscuring smoke, one fire at a time. But then this road trip, to special place after special place, I saw Oregon’s nature removing every forest acre to make room for something fit for dryer days. Grass and oaks, likely. East Bay oak savannah a couple mountain ranges north. 

Apocalypse aside, I hope all is well.