The Turtle and the Fire

As you no doubt already know, the Los Angeles area has been on fire for the past week.

I was born here in 1940, so I still remember the light blanket of snow that covered the city on a Saturday in the early 1950’s.  I know for sure it was a Saturday because instead of playing in the snow, my parents made me attend a piano lesson scheduled for that day.

Last week, when I walked into my kitchen, I saw a plastic container filled with water.  Inside was a good-sized turtle, one foot in diameter.  Apparently, someone in the family thought that our kitchen was the safest place for their turtle to ride out the fire.

I’ll admit that it was exciting to watch the fire burn to within a few miles of our home. I say “exciting” when I probably should say “scary.”  But tragic events and disasters can heighten our awareness of everything around us because high-risk situations raise the existential stakes.  One of my sons lives near Pacific Palisades.  Fortunately, the Santa Monica Fire Department positioned their equipment directly in front of his house, so it was protected, but a number of his friends did not have houses to go back to.

Which brings me to “things”.  I’ve always told my children to value people, which cannot be replaced.  “Things” can be repaired or replaced.  As it turns out both of my sons had to temporarily abandon their homes.  But their families are fine.

I’m an avid follower of the news. In this case, however, I live only a few miles from the tragedy unfolding.  I am very grateful that my family members are all safe and terribly sorry for all those who have been more directly impacted by the fires.

Last weekend the wind practically threw my back against my front door. But I’m hopeful that the wind will die down, the fires will be brought under control, and once again, I’ll be able to take a walk around the block.

In the meantime, I now have a turtle for company.

Alan