The night is cool, the sun has just set, and the trees are swaying slightly in the wind. Every few minutes a truck drives by with a delivery: usually dropping off a load of tourists or a few dozen crates of beer. A few friends and I are sitting in the local bar eating fries, a rare treat for us, and drinking cokes. It’s just a normal night, until a fire starts on the other side of the hill. The smoke envelops the entire valley, and the fire lights up the remaining forest in an orange glow. The open air restaurant smells like smoke, and visibility is remarkably low.
