Someone last week had to have a fire somewhere near the Borrego Trail. Or flicked a lit cigarette butt. Now we have the Pacheco Fire eating up the Pecos Wilderness, 7000 acres or so and only starting to be contained.
Today, someone had to have a fire at Las Conchas, one of the prettiest places that New Mexico State Road 4 winds through in the Jemez Mountains. Or it used to be. If I took a picture from my house, across the valley, all you would see is yellow smoke as the Rio Grande Valley fills up with it.
Their fires, of course, were no danger. Smart they were, knew how to handle it, even in dry and windy weather. No problems, they said without putting their hands on the cold coals. They are so cool, such good outdoorsmen.
Tinder-dry are the forests, wind sucking for moisture and finding none, a dry winter from La Niña, spring with no rain. Wind, wind, wind, beyond all reason. Hot now, too.
No, this isn't global warming, say the congressmen, passionless faces held in the proper positions. Must not hurt the donors of their campaign money, must hurt Barack Obama, win again, power counts, no thought of most people and their needs. No, no, vote no, vote no again. People must be made to suffer if they cannot find the money to buy a congressman.
This is a world belonging to all of us. We have to be wise stewards, says that book they say they venerate.
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