Watching for the Red Storm

Posted on August 11, 2002 in Weather

We scan the hot western skies in August for signs of approaching storms and try to detect the feel of electricity in the air. Any breeze at all can feel ominous. We are remembering another of nature’s rules: Payback is hell.

“The Fires Next Time”
– Rick Bass

I made a point not to laugh at the early summer trials of my fellow chatters and bloggers. I knew this was coming: temperatures that kiss the underside of 100 degree Fahrenheit and bring Hell to the interior canyons and foothills.

The NWS warns us that there could be death:

STRONG HIGH PRESSURE ALOFT WILL RESULT IN MORE HOT WEATHER TO END THE WEEKEND.

TEMPERATURES WILL RANGE FROM 95 TO 106 IN THE INLAND EMPIRE AND THE HIGHER INLAND VALLEYS OF SAN DIEGO COUNTY. OVER THE FOOTHILLS AND LOWER MOUNTAIN SLOPES OF ORANGE COUNTY…SAN BERNARDINO COUNTY…RIVERSIDE COUNTY…AND SAN DIEGO COUNTY…HIGH TEMPERATURES BETWEEN 90 AND 103 DEGREES ARE EXPECTED. IN THE DESERTS HIGHS WILL RANGE FROM 106 TO 116 DEGREES.

PEOPLE IN THESE AREAS SHOULD AVOID STRENUOUS OUTDOOR ACTIVITY DURING THE DAY. DRINK PLENTY OF WATER AND AVOID ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES. WEAR LIGHT WEIGHT AND LIGHT COLORED CLOTHING. NEVER LEAVE CHILDREN OR PETS IN CLOSED AUTOMOBILES…TEMPERATURES CAN QUICKLY RISE TO DANGEROUS LEVELS….

You can’t see this heat. It show up uneventfully and squats. It’s dry here, which is probably the only blessing of our long, rainless season. It’s not like my first night in North Carolina some 22 years ago when the rain doused the pavement and turned to steam. We don’t get that thickness of the air. You can wear your clothes for a couple of days if you don’t move about and sweat.

Every morning when I rise, I taste the air for crisp traces of smoke that might signal the approach of holocaust. I observe the tips of the eucalyptus trees that stand on the other side of Tim’s condo for movement. A single spark impregnating a dry wind could mean disaster. I’ve got the rest of the summer and nearly all of the fall before I can relax. We have seen massive fires in these parts as late as December. The infamous Panorama Fire that dined on some 600 homes in San Bernardino was a Thanksgiving feast for Agni. Doom winks in every blade of golden wild oat grass until the first rain of winter, an event not likely to happen before October and perhaps as late as January.

Two to six more months of uncertainty. The fear of flame insinuates itself into every weather report I make at this time of year. You will keep hearing about it from me until that day when I catch the scent of dust made mud by the first rain. On that day, I will be glad for the news. You can rejoice with me.

I can take the heat. Even when it becomes so warm that the lack of humidity becomes irrelevant. It’s that wind that gives me a sandpaper chill around my neck. It’s the thought of embers wafting down the mountain that disturbs my sleep. Still air may not cool, but it also does not bring fire. I know peace of mind on dog days when the trees don’t bend. When they do, I check our cat carriers and mark the shortest path to the swimming pool just in case the red storm roars into the development unannounced.

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