One Thanksgiving holiday (celebrated in late November in the United States), I drove to the San Diego area to spend time with my daughter and her family. 

They live in a picturesque, hilly rural area about 15 miles from the ocean. The weather is warm during the day, but a strong breeze almost always comes up in the afternoon, so the evenings and nights are usually pleasant. 

We attended church on Thanksgiving morning and then came home to have an early holiday dinner. As we were cleaning up after our meal, we noticed a patch of orange smoke rising from behind the hill across from ours. The afternoon wind had kicked up, and soon the entire ridge line was ablaze. The wind was blowing the smoke and ash right at us, and our daughter’s home was soon engulfed in thick smoke. We heard sirens wailing and saw helicopters and a small plane overhead dropping water and fire retardant. It was frightening and mesmerizing.