last night, no candle burning no smoke added to the the orange air, in the dark, in the back field, cries or screams never heard before, lost animals calling family, this morning, no sunrise, no clouds, no background sky the sense of distance...a fog of ash trees, crops, villages, homes, for rabbits, deer, raccoon, bear, coyote, squirrel, and birds a dense fog of ash through slow rotation blanketing this side of this hill, so there is no beyond already there is that one scrawny squirrel, the last one moving about before darkness last night, now perched on a grey fence post, surveyor of all this otherwise perceived stillness through the skeletons of the almost leafless Maples and Ash, over the carpet of tangled branches and wind torn leaves, i don my goggles and face mask, advance into this stillness turn on the sprinkler to quench the thirst of dried out plants and roots and fill the fountain for the birds and squirrels and anything else needing a bit of water, before i sit back down by the kitchen window birds are flying in from all directions perching in the Maples and Ash, resting on the fence posts, cautiously stepping to the perimeter of the swirling sprinkler head, the scrawny squirrel has brought a friend, checking for food under the leaves and playing tag, up and down the tree trunks, and for awhile this morning everyone has a drink as we wait out this orange sky stillness for the possibility of coming wind and rain.
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