Days of Smog

In another profoundly weird turn of events, wildfires raging across Canada turned my part of New York State into a BBQ. Or at least it smells like one.  Think a BBQ in the front yard and the back yard of every house, on every street, in every neighborhood without the meat or veggies or corn on the cobb. A boring BBQ for sure.

The smell comes from Canada.

There are fires in about 10 provinces with the worst being in Quebec, where lightning is believed to have caused several fires about 500 miles north and east of me. High winds drifted the smoke south and a golden charcoal haze has engulfed our world. 

New York issued air quality warnings and locally people are canceling things left because health officials say we should avoid time outside. 

Like a fool, I didn't. 

I woke up Thursday with bloodshot droopy eyes. I looked like I was beat up by the tag team of Smog and my old nemesis pollen. Those b******s got me good.

A friend says the world looks like Days of Heaven. That's a 1970s movie about Director Terrance Mallick had every scene shot at dawn or dusk. 

I was thinking more Christopher Nolan's Interstellar. My favorite scenes in that movie are the small ones when people turned over dusty plates at dinner and cancelled a   baseball game early as a storm rolled in. 

I should have done the same.

I blame Canada, and of course myself.

Previously on the commentary

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