The air quality was stunningly low as I crested Fox Hill on 192 as I approached 9. It’s a view I’ve seen countless times, my property on the right, to the west, along a ridge. I could see it through the haze, about a mile as the crow flies, but little past it.
The haze/particulate matter from Canadian wildfires did accentuate the ridges and tree lines. It’s was eery, sad, even scary, yet oddly beautiful. It wasn’t something I wanted to take a picture of though…
I jammed some dinner down after my conversation with the well meister. I felt like my eyes were gently burning, but set to work outside, albeit gently to start the stump and tree removal. The skeeters didn’t mind the smog…
DeedleDoodleDaily 