The Bosque is Burning
My yard and car in Barelas are speckled with ash. It smelled like campfire remnants around here all night.
The patch of Bosque that burned near Tingley is one I run through three or four times a week. I ride by it on my bicycle on my way to band practice. On Sunday, I remarked to my fellow runners how beautiful the area is, how it seems like a totally different place in evening light vs. morning light or noon light. At night, it's alternately peaceful or eerie.
During my last run, the Cottonwoods were shedding white, fuzzy puffs that drifted in the air, clotted around the base of every tree and spilled out onto the trail. It was like a summer snow or something. I wonder if it was also really flammable.