We drove in to Tassajara this afternoon to deliver produce and supplies and remove a load of flammable recyling, and a couple of residents who'd decided to leave.
Along the road the view is mostly hidden behind a series of smoky veils. Each wrinkle in the land adds its contribution to the cloud and soon the hills are hidden.
Arriving there we walked into an empty rainstorm - the sprinklers were on in the main area and only a few people were around before dinner. The baths were deserted and the decks were cool and damp.
Everyone seems to be in good spirits and yet tired of all the waiting. They were wondering why the helicopters were pounding the fire near them when the overall strategy is to let the forest burn within the big box.
I went down to the loft to collect some stuff for an evacuee and was struck by the obvious signs of a hurried departure that were everywhere.
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