I was on the fourth floor of the satellite clinic, approaching the elevators. Beyond them the wall is a window, and a woman was over there standing staring out at the scene across the valley.

So I stepped forward a bit to catch a glimpse of whatever might be so interesting. And found myself staring, too.

She saw me and decided to turn away from it, enough. We got on an elevator together.

I hope you’re not having to go home that way, I told her, breaking the silence and acknowledging what we had just seen.

No, no, she said, sounding relieved, I’m going the other way.

I’m heading south, I told her. Should be okay.

But I was mentally charting reroutes, just in case. It should be far enough away. Hopefully.

The huge plumes of black smoke billowed over the freeway and the wind was carrying it southward, so once I got past it it seemed to follow all the way. The hills on the other side of the Bay became a faded-out gray/brown, almost hidden–but gradually, the smoke got lesser and lighter in color and I knew then that the firemen were on the job.

I had a pretty good guess as to just which business was on fire over by the Bay, and it was, and memory is that they got hit with a massive fine last time and I imagine they will be again. Our lungs deserve better.

I think maybe tomorrow I will just keep the car in the driveway and avoid all further excitement.