The sky filled with smoke more than ever before yesterday.

Leaving not a smidge of blue sky anywhere

Tendrils of smoke wafted around our heads, in our eyes, and settled upon our skin

The whole sky had a grey sheen to it

The air smelled of forests burning,

the taste of wood ash on our tongues

the smoke lay heavy although smoke itself is not heavy

It might as well be

It comes in such a volume it weights on all lungs — human, animal, bugs, and plants

That breathing is a stress upon itself.

Gradually the sun turned the sky to pink and the smoke turned the sun red

As the western side of the United States continues to burn.

With sadness your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda