The last few weeks have been so hot that the cat couldn't cool off without looking pathetic,
and then we had a night last week with crazy lightning storms. It was warm enough that we just sat out on the back patio watching the sky flash. It felt oddly like Phoenix.
The next morning, I went mountain biking up at Russian Ridge; from there I could see the fire that had been started by a lightning strike over by Skeggs, which had been my alternate destination for the morning. I got to watch the Cal-Fire planes fly back and forth to the fire down the ridge, and was quite glad I hadn't unknowingly headed over there.
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