This is Not a Fairy Tale

There is a Monster to the south.  He raised his frightening head yesterday afternoon and got everyone's attention.  He spits ashes that fall fifty miles downwind, fluttering like snowflakes to the hot, dry vegetation there.  He is not alone.  Another monster works the same evil magic to the southwest, devouring forest land by the acres.

The Monster laid down overnight.  A red sun rose in the east, foreshadowing the firey day ahead.  Fed by wind and acres of dry timber, the Monster has plenty to eat.  He will raise his smoke columned head again today.

This is not our fire.  It sits in an adjacent county and is managed by a Type II team, its members assembled from other parts of this western country.  Equipment and people arrive to attack the beast. We watch it from the north.  Waiting.  Holding our breath.  Planning.  Expecting it or one of its friends to show up here.  Soon.

Fire season is late in Teton County.  By now, we usually have fall weather; snow in the high country, rain on the valley floor.  But not this year.  Now, our only hope is the efforts of prevention and cold nights.