How to make sense of senseless times

In early September, I woke up to a yellow sky. We’d been enveloped in smoke and surrounded by fire in the Bay Area for the better part of a month. But this was different. Now, with a heavy veil of smoke blocking the sun, the heat-wave temperatures of the previous weeks had dropped to an autumnal chill. The sky was dark as dusk; my body had no sense of what time it was. It felt apocalyptic.

I put on my bathrobe and went downstairs, made myself a mug of tea, and sat at the dining table, staring out the window.


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