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Personal Note:

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Poem

The acrid smell is gone replaced by seaweed and  salt
 The crows have returned in the early mornings
 Cawing and butting walnuts on the roof
 Neighbors hide their cats — for quiet coyotes are hungry
 Orphaned baby mountain lions are cuddled in rescue wraps
 Horses put down, wildlife gone,
 Eyes keep alert looking at the skies, the hills, 
 Beloved parks with pines, their tart scent of eucalyptus
 The soft smell of lavender, the sweetness of sage-scarred                      
 Still memories of burning nights snd falling ash remains
 To stay or where to go, fires and  floods
 There are small pockets of flame hidden in the mountains
 The skies now are blue the white fog has returned 
 Some days the smell of burnt smoking wood remains, 
 For the quiet land is damaged and feels a burning  pain

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