This afternoon I set off from my house and thought, “Damn what a beautiful sky.”
No smoke in the air.
A miracle, until returning to my house I spotted thick grey plume billowing from the northern end of the street. It was not a cloud. It was fire. A brushfire. Call the Fire Dept. Quick.
Mistake or kwam-pit. The fire squad is busy playing bocci on an unshaded playing field at the fire house.
It’s late-January and the Thai’s traditional kick off the debut of the dry season by a traditional burning of every valueless object in sight. Plastic bags, paper, animal remains et al. Any attempt to explain how bad this is for the atmosphere is met with a blank smile.
Non-conversational Thai for ‘stupid farang‘.
“Fire renews the earth and makes the snakes run away.”
I forgot about the snakes.
Fire snakes dry season has the makings of a Hollywood movie.
Too bad I’m honoring the Writers’ Guild strike line.
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