Too close for comfort

We have a large vacant field about a quarter-mile north from our house. This is where we fly kites and kids ride dirtbikes and motocross bikes, too. Occasionally, some drunk redneck goes muddin over there, however with no rain in months, if they tried now, they'd be dustin.

I drive by the field every day to take the boys to school. This morning was no different. Nothing unusual. Then, on the way to pick up the boys from school, I smell smoke (I have a very sensitive nose) and look over to see the charred grass in that field.

This is a view from my driver's side of my minivan. Fortunately, the wind was blowing away from our house, which is on the south side of this road. We're also lucky that we have a fire station less than two miles from the house, so they managed to stamp this bad boy out before it spread.

Thank God that it was doused before it got bad. Hot Rod's buddy lives just to the west of this property just to the left of that row of trees you see in the picture.

*doing a rain dance and thinking of that Phil Collins song*