Days of our lives

 What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

Philip Larkin

I'm canning fruit chutney this morning, a nice activity that doesn't require either a priest or a doctor.  Yesterday I drove all the way out to Snoqualmie to ride, but Skeeter and Spanky were busy getting new shoes. That was OK, it was a beautiful day and I just hung out for a bit talking to the farrier about his theories on how to make horses behave.

Skeeter

I took pictures of Mt. Si from the barn, and that haze is smoke from the dozens of fires burning near Wenatchee, over a hundred miles away.

Wildfires are burning all over the West, but I can't remember a time when there were so many at once in Eastern Washington. Easterly winds are bringing the smoke through the Columbia Gorge and gaps in the Cascades, like Snoqualmie Pass over to the right of Mt. Si. Yesterday dispatchers at 911 centers were inundated with false fire reports from smoke east of the mountains.  The sunrises and sunsets are spooky red.

The town where Tom and Amanda live isn't threatened by fire, but anxiety is high for some of their friends who live in more remote areas. The fire crews are stretched thin by the large number of fires.  Our warm and dry weather forecast continues into the foreseeable future.