My first responder family races out of here any crazy time of night and day, reporting to a fascinating variety of crisises. But of all those times, none seems so dreadfully long to me as stormy nights when they are somewhere-out-there in the remains of some wild weather. Cutting trees off roads. Cutting trees off wires. Wires..now that's to fear.
     "Watch where you step!" I call after them.   "Silly, " I sigh at myself.
     Then I splurge on a few chapters of a novel and wash supper dishes and sew; always listening, listening, as the minutes tick by. To the busy scanner and the pounding rain. It's lonely. Even the dog is hiding.
     Hero comes swirling in, checks on his own property, gets dry clothes, heads out again. Blaze is on the mountain road he thinks.Weather calls blow them every which way, usually apart, often for long hours with little or nothing across the scanner to satisfy me.
     It grows dark and late and slowly silence falls.
     Wait!  There it is!
     " County from Chief 24-2... place Company 24 available from the JT call."
     Ahhh...I was awaitin' those words. Now I know that they'll both be at the fire hall.
     Just enough time for a cup of tea.

Blaze's view