Yikes!

in which things get a little warm

Heat wave, no rain. 😱

Adding to the long list of things I did not consider when moving to France is fire risk. Back in Virginia, the world is humid. It rains a lot. Sure, there are occasional fires, but the concept of entire towns getting wiped out by LA-style conflagrations—not a thing. Here’s some advice to anyone considering making a big move: think about the ways in which the new place is dramatically different from the old, and what that might mean. If I had thought about it, I would have realized that a dry climate is likely to have a fire problem. My daughter lives in LA, after all.

Anyway. My beloved département, the Aude, is beset by fires. Some of them have been rather close, just a handful of kilometers away. I’ve driven home from running errands and seen billowing clouds of smoke coming from the next village. The latest fire, on the edge of Narbonne, was really big and 1000 firemen were on the job. (1000!!!)

Facebook is invaluable for locals to share the latest, and to see notices and updates from the Préfecture. And I know I complain (enthusiastically and bitterly) about French bureaucracy, but I will tell you that when fires are breaking out all around, seeing these very well-written, precise, and informative bulletins from that bureaucracy is a wonderful thing. When I went outside and the light was eerie, a sort of brassy yellow from the smoke, and the air smelled burnt—I knew from reading those bulletins that the firemen were taking care of business. They are well-trained and they are on top of it. It was reassuring to see photos of the planes going over, dumping seawater or some kind of maroon substance that must snuff out flames.

The fires are now out, though they seem to spring back to life sometimes. My main road has been closed, opened, and closed again. Good thing I always have about two weeks’ worth of cheese on hand, in case I can’t get out. :) And the danger of new fires is still high—any human mistake can start more. (One of these was started by a fellow—one might charitably call him an idiot—who had a lit grill in the back of his truck as he drove down the highway, allowing embers to fly out.)

We have had only about 16 drops of rain in many, many weeks. It is terrifically dry and the trees in my yard are starting to complain. Of course we’re on water restriction, no hoses, so I watch them drop their leaves and all I can do is commiserate. The heat wave finally abated and that at least has made the girls and me a whole lot happier.

This weekend, 70% chance of rain. Pray for the Aude, my friends! Let it pour!