Fire down below

When a WEA committee member arrived at our house this morning for a meeting, he informed me that there was a fire further down our street. We went out for a quick appraisal, then waited for the third member to turn up. Eventually I rang him, and he apologised for forgetting all about it! Never mind, I said, we have to make a decision but we're unanimous, we have all made it by phone or in person beforehand.

CleanSteve has written about the fire crews, so I won't bore you. The picture below is of the guys finishing off by topping up their water tender from the water mains at the top of our street. I snapped it through a rainy window.

This isn't the first fire or even the second in our street. There was a garden fire in one of the bungalows during the tinder-dry summer of 2018, and a terrifying fire in 2005, started by a teenager, in which the windows of the house blew out and the roof tiles popped like fireworks. That was extremely frightening, and CleanSteve was away at the time, and we didn't have decent mobile phones then, so I couldn't even tell him about it. Fortunately today's fire was not as dramatic.
I've chosen these two pictures because they make our street look quite leafy and rural. Everything is still so green!

I'm quarantining myself at the moment, or at least avoiding town for the main part. I continue to test negative every day on the LF tests, but CoVid rates are high. Staying at home is boring, feels like another lockdown, but I have found time to catch up with some podcasts, and to start a jigsaw, the first of this autumn season.