Burning season


It was a beautiful morning.

The sky was pink in the east and the clouds were all tinted by the rising sun and the birds were singing and squirrels running across the street and two robins chased each other through a hedge.

And I was halfway to work when the sirens started.

I’ve had three police shifts this week and each has been busy. It’s been warm and dry and the leaves aren’t out yet so anyone who tries to burn yard waste or garbage sets off brush fires. The fire chief is sleep deprived and mad. Morons keep burning garbage and what if we have a structure fire but everyone’s out fighting a brush fire set by a burning piece of paper? He says I can quote his ‘moron’ statement and since it’s the only colorful quote that doesn’t involve a curse word, I do.

It doesn’t make it into the headline, though everyone would read the story if it did.  “Fire chief: Stop burning, morons!” I should have pushed for it. 

It would have made people mad, though.

I was halfway to work this morning when the sirens started and I thought, of course, there would be something  happening this morning, but the doors to the fire company across the street from the office were closed.

Which was good. It was a busy-enough morning without breaking news.

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