One time out in Colorado we saw a house burning. It was the end of a long day (aren’t they all) canvassing in an environmental campaign in suburban Denver, and we were headed back into the city, a group of four of us, by car. Someone remarked, “Whoa, look at that,” and a couple of us others went “Holy sh**,” or, “I wonder if they called it in yet!” I’m pretty sure one of the people just sat there, not saying anything.
We continued to drive on, most of us, if not all of us, thinking about the fire. Thinking about what we had just seen. The backs of houses, along I-170, emerged, depicted themselves, and then obscured, again. We were mostly silent — thinking about how the day had gone. There was no need for anything else, at this time. Much of what we had, much of what we were, much of what we were doing, was working just fine. The rest, we figured we’d just drive right by, for now.