Tonight’s commute home, on 880 S near the 280 interchange.

Burning trees

We could feel the heat driving by. I’ve always felt bad for these forlorn Coast Redwoods. We drive past them every day, and you know they’re struggling with pollution, noise, and traffic rolling over their shallow root systems. And they’re out here in the middle of the flatlands. Just the wrong place for this tree. No doubt they were tinder dry after months with no rain, and some genius tossed a lit cigarette into the layer of trash that lines this stretch of road. Now I’ll have to maintain a defensible perimeter around the Honda.

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