Year of Being 50: Day 168: Prescribed Burns
Where we live, it’s very dry. Very dry. (Except when it’s wet and then it’s very wet. But that is a brief period of time.)
The town is also surrounded by forest. The Prescott National Forest, to be precise.
And, like most forests, stuff accumulates within it. Flammable stuff. If people weren’t around, there would be periodic forest fires, keeping it all down to a dull roar. But that’s not safe for towns, so every year they do a bunch of prescribed burns in the forests surrounding the town. This keeps major forest fires at bay, generally, but it pollutes our air and we can’t spend any time out of doors while they’re doing it. And they generally do it during the most beautiful parts of the year, when it’s cool but not cold, when you want to have your windows and doors open to enjoy the fresh air.
I’m not sure why they can’t do it in winter. Maybe because it’s just too dry?
So, it’s good that they do it, I guess, but having a smoke-filled sky and smoke coming in our windows, especially at night when we’d want them to be open, isn’t my favorite.
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