Tuesday morning, while I was getting ready for work, Josh knocked on our sliding glass door. He pointed to the fire behind our house. At that time, it was still dark and so you could easily see the flames in the dark of the night. We didn't know at that time what had happened, or what would happen later in the day, but it was surreal to see our back yard on fire. As the day went on, the smoke went away - until I was on my way home. The smoke was spreading. It was powerful and scary. When I turned on our street to get home, there were hundreds and hundreds of cars lined up on both sides to get a picture. I was so frustrated. It took me forever to get to my home to my children. Our quiet corner of the world had been jolted. When I got home, I went out to the deck and could feel the immense heat from the fire that had not only started up again, but had also spread to triple its original size. Josh called to check on us and I told him to come right home. I wasn't sure if the police were going to evacuate us or ask us to stay in our houses. Ash was falling everywhere. Everywhere. Cars and strangers were everywhere, trying to get into our back yard, trying to take pictures, trying to see what they could. It was awful.