Julien Kinori, 35, a writer in Los Angeles, brought up Ms. When a helicopter appeared, buzzing low, and dropped its payload of water, a rainbow bloomed like a halo over the bruised landscape. The winds were pushing the smoke to the west, moving like gray mist across the blue sky - and making it possible to breathe - as firefighters and police officers watched the flames crackle through the dry, brown brush. A sign for the visitor parking lot, secured by sandbags, had easily toppled over. Shouts became whispers, drowned out by the hissing of flags flapping, and tree branches bending and cracking. To walk meant to move hunched over, slowly, both hands holding your hat. On the hillside at the library the wind was a terrible companion. “We can’t get in front of it because it puts us in harm’s way,” said Brian McGrath, a spokesman for the Ventura County Fire Department. The fire near the library, known as the Easy fire, was uncontained on Wednesday night.

As it crept close, thousands of residents in the valley had to flee their homes nearby.įirefighters spoke of the gusts with a sense of fatalism, an act of nature they cannot get ahead of, and certainly cannot control.

The blaze threatening the library was the latest to ignite in more than a week of fierce wildfires that have burned up and down the state.

The winds of time