a close call

In the early hours of Sunday morning - before dawn - I had the vague sensation of waking up and hearing a rumble of thunder. That surprised me, as the weather forecast the night before hadn't mentioned that possibility. But I turned over and went back to sleep. The next morning was foggy and overcast with a pale hint of sun. It wasn't until nearly midday that the sun came out and I chose to go and buy a couple of food items I needed - and to try to take some photos of the nearby woods. Just as I was leaving, I decided to check the news headlines - and it was only then that I heard about the fire at the fuel depot ten miles due north of here. And it still didn't occur to me that the thunder I'd heard might have been something else.

I went out into the sunshine, and found the local woods just clear of the fog that lingered in the valley. The air was chilly, so I wrapped up well - including a scarf over my nose and mouth. That didn't help the photography too much, as I had to keep stopping to demist my glasses. But what photos!! Fabulous shots of trees, shafts of sunlight through the mist, and then a horse and rider coming down the track. Perfection.

By then the chill was biting through my gloves and so I packed up, walked back to the car, and drove into town to buy the food I wanted. So it was past two o'clock when I finally sat down in front of the TV and watched the unfolding story on the news channels. On my way home, I'd spotted the plume of black smoke on the horizon rising from the depot - and trailing right across the eastern sky and out of sight. I was thanking my lucky stars for being in bright sunshine - no hint of smoke or smell.

And gradually the story sank in - a huge explosion, millions of gallons of fuel converting into black smoke, houses wrecked, windows and doors blown in. And all of this just ten miles to the north.

But still it didn't bite. Until, just before bedtime, the weather forecast giving me the one piece I didn't want - the wind was going to rise from a barely perceptible westerly whisper to a stronger northeasterly overnight. Which meant that black plume was going to head our way.
As I went to bed, the sky was clear; stars sparkling - but for how long?

I woke at 5 this morning; apprehensive about what I'd find. I looked outside; overcast. I checked the TV; the fire still burning fiercely. But no hint of smoke here.

I woke again at 8.15. This time - daylight; bright sun; blue sky; not a hint of smoke. The TV news showed the plume - a narrow stream this time rather than the huge blanket of the previous day - and out of sight to the west of us.

All the schools in our area have been closed; and tomorrow (Tuesday) even more will be closed. That meant I didn't work this morning - several of my students had to stay home to look after their school age children. So I haven't been outside for more than a few moments. Did I imagine the wisp of smoke in my nostrils?

My class tomorrow evening has already been cancelled; the forecast is that the wind will still be from the north; but will it swing from the northeast (which means clear skies here) to the north (which means who knows what?)? I suppose I'll know tomorrow.

The firemen hope to extinguish the flames overnight; but they admit that they are in unknown territory. They put out some fires today, but then had to retreat when one tank ruptured.

So, what will this bring?

Some members of our chorus live in the midst of the damage zone; I've not yet heard how they are getting on. That's what happens when you have a fuel depot on the edge of a town and beside a major highway.

What a Christmas present!

Simon