Ash fell from the sky.
~ The first line of Brandon Sanderson’s book, The Final Empire
For the second time in my life, ash is literally falling from the sky, covering my home, my yard, my street. The first time was when I was eight years old, when a volcano erupted less than 60 miles from my home. That was Mount St. Helens, and I still remember ash covering everything for several days, like grey snow.
Today, 37 years later, ash is covering everything once again. It’s not nearly as thick this time, but it’s effects are much worse. It’s brown instead of grey. Instead of volcanic ash, it’s the remains of dead trees. Instead of a dark sky like during the eclipse a few weeks ago, this time the sky is brown, like the sun is dying. The view out of my front porch this morning looked like this: