As I write, the sounds of red-shouldered hawks and acorn woodpeckers are quiet; in the background, human birds—helicopters and planes—are at work. The deer have not been chowing on the cherry plums in the yard, perhaps sniffing the scent of fire in the air. I had hoped to share such moments as new California poppies, with their deep roots, blooming after the surprise rain.
Instead, like many of you, I have been sorting out…