Fire season is here.

I don’t see colors the way I used to, lying on the couch in my bedroom in the desert and staring through the curtains at the wildfire sky. I remember that day specifically, although nothing out of the ordinary had happened; I just remember lying there and watching the curtain flow toward and away from the window with the wind, smelling the mountains burning and watching the sky blush red. It marks, I think, the beginning of my obsession with fire season because for those handful of minutes, I felt more alive than anything.