Afternoon's light had a yellow cast, lent to it by the smoke from the fire. I always find such light enervating, and in combination with the heat, it left me feeling lethargic. As yet, there is no fall of ash, nor has any smell of the burning reached this place, but the way in which the glow of the town's lights a mile away is circumscribed by a deep darkness in the sky, it is apparent that the air above is not clear. I glance to the south now and then, to see if any reddish glow appears, but thus far there is none. This place always feels strange when there is a large fire nearby, even when the town itself is not directly threatened. It feels closed in, and even sounds seem dampened, as though a mass of cotton wool had been laid over the world. I'll be glad when the fire is out.