Miners Inn, Yrekaby Kathleen M. McNamaraHard haul north to Yreka. Fires west of the I5, Sky so low and growly Couldn't see Mt. Shasta's Clean, flowing flanks. Acrid smell permeated the air. Suddenly a chopper zipped over the Road ahead, dumped a load of Orange flame retardant. Shocked by the reality, my mate Still joked that it was the only Color he'd seen all day. Grim fire crews using the Inn as a staging area Signaled this was serious. Our non-smoking room now Pointless, smoky inside, too. Me, always the outlaw, and Knowing the fires would cover me, Sat on the lanai overlooking The creek, smoking weed, Counting emergency vehicles Exiting the freeway, amazed by The birds, fish and turtles going About their usual business. Morning at 6, fires out, clear skies. Wiped the soot off the Windshield, flew up the road, Gray, ashy powder Swirling in our wake. Lucky this time. ©Kathleen M. McNamara Kathleen M. McNamara lives in the San Francisco Bay area with her husband of 38 years and three cats. Her work has been published in Runner's World, Cat Fancy, Catholic Digest, Timber Creek Review,and several issues of L'Intrigue. |