Signs from the heavens

Signs from the heavens

There was the frightening brush fire in Griffith Park yesterday just a few miles southwest of the apartment. At one point the sun's light passed through the billowing smoke, which turned the light an unnatural orange and ash snowed down on the grass lot next door. Having ash rain down on you isn't good because it means that the wind is pushing the fire your way.

All of that proved to be an ill-portend. Later that night, we got a call from our good friend, Jake's, roommate telling us that Jake had been hit by a car. We rushed out of the house, picked up his roommate and as we made our way--quickly but cautiously--to the hospital, we couldn't help but notice that the southwest hillside looked like a volcano.

Fast forward past one frazzled night waiting by the emergency room then in the ICU waiting room and past one head and leg surgery, and it seems like our friend is on the upward climb to recovery. He's got a plate in his head and pins and rods in his leg, but fingers and toes are moving and he's responsive when spoken to. And he's still got that sarcastic wit, although I'm trying to convince the doctors to go ahead and surgically remove that while he's there. Then there would be no one to challenge my supreme wit! MUUUUUUHUHAHAHAHAHHAHAH!

PS - Remind me to tell everyone how Jake and I lead parallel lives (not to worry, I got my knocks out of the way already on this one) and how fire forecasts a trip to the emergency room. For another time...

For now, sleep.

D