As I write, the Carr fire in Northern California -- a blaze that at its peak had characteristics that seemed almost apocalyptic -- has diminished, but still remains a significant threat to some communities.
Shruti Swamy, a woman of Indian extraction who says she grew up in the woods of Northern California (but now lives in San Francisco), has a story in the Summer 2018 edition of the Paris Review entitled "A House is a Body." It's about a woman and her sick child living in a region where "rain had not come for months and months." What has come instead is a fire.
There's a knock on the door; a man in uniform: they are advised to leave. A bit later, as the fire turns, they are ordered to leave.
A grandmother taking care of two young children tried to protect them in place as the Carr fire swept through their locale. All three lost their lives.
Unable, in part because of her daughter's illness, in part because of indecision, the woman remains and observes the fire heading their way. "Look how beautiful," she says, lifting her daughter's head. Their fate will be that of their house.
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