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Forboding

Thursday, 11 November 2010


I smelled it as soon as I stepped outside the house this morning. And suddenly, I was four years old again. Watching flames lap at our neighbours’ house as someone (my mother?) held me, wrapped in a blanket, at a safe distance from the fire. Caused, if memory serves, by faulty electrical wiring.

A year or so later, another fire. This one caused by unattended Chanukah candles. An eerily familiar smell woke me that night, only to discover the living room table consumed by flames.

Thirty-five years have passed. But the hot dry winds carry with them the increased potential for wildfires. And make my hairs stand on end.

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