After a bright but dark-ish blue noon cloud cover that looked like it might even rain, the wind blew the local headlines this way and it was definitely a fire sky now. We’re far from the flames, but people we care about aren’t.

After dinner, I went out to take a look, and instead of being one solid mass like earlier, there was a definite formation within, scattering out a bit in spots into the distance–

–let me step back a bit to see–

yeah, that way, but when you have to replicate a sense of balance by where the ground is and feels, taking a few steps backwards while looking upwards and touching anything unexpected means your brain suddenly doesn’t know where the ground is at all nor which way that idea of up ran off to.

Which I suddenly wasn’t.

I knew my personal five minute rule, but I also knew sprains hurt more the next day and I ought to take care of that, so I iced my wrists awhile.

Which was boring.

So I sat down and figured out the branches stage of the afghan that had been impatiently waiting for me to get on with it, and got on with it. Sheer orneriness isn’t the motivation I would have been looking for to kick the knitting back into gear but hey, whatever works.