Fires Raging Everywhere: The Choice of a Follower

I close Instagram, lock my phone, and turn back to my dad; it’s Saturday at lunch and I’ve gone to my parents for tacos from the little taco shop two minutes down the road. I’m seething.

My dad remarks on the weather, how clear the sky is, and how blue, after months of intermittent smoke that settled into the valley where our home sits, that turned the sun orange in the…