Costa and I were walking home when we saw (and smelled) smoke coming from a house, a couple of blocks ahead of us.
We moved faster and made our way to the house. Sure enough, the vinyl on the side of the garage was looking fascinating melted and curly, revealing its cedar underskirts.
A woman was hosing the whole thing down with intent and focus and seemed to have most of it under control by the time we got there.
Two other ladies, maybe neighbors, were fluttering about, looking a little lost, as though they were not sure how to help.
We stayed a while, freed up a few hanging pots whose wires had merged themselves into the vinyl siding, and then before leaving I talked with the lady with the hose, saying how lucky it was that she gotten there before her house could burn all the way.
That's when she looked at me and said: "Oh, this is not my house. I was just driving by and went for the hose."
It turns out, the two women who seemed at a loss, were the owners of the home. The lady who looked fully in charge was someone who had driven by.
For some reason, I just love this so much.
I love to be reminded how, when things feel so big (often because they are ours) we sometimes can't really grab them and be proactive, and how another person may be able (often because it is not theirs) to take hold of the situation and restore peace.
Here's to Interdependence. Community. Support. Taking turns.
So much good stuff.
Wishing you a lovely day!
SCARED OF THE SACRED