arid earth; arid days

Today the Daily Post’s one word prompt was ‘arid’:

                  1. (of land or a climate) having little or no rain; too dry or barren to support vegetation.
                  2. lacking in interest, excitement or meaning.

1. The Port Hills fire is still burning;   Yesterday we drove into town, and you could see where the fire had blackened the hills. It was completely burnt, the plants withered down. Just fields of charcoal – it’s a real contrast to the bright greens and yellows you usually see up there. If you look up at the hills, the ones that haven’t been burnt, you can see how dry the grass is. It’s a relief that there has been rain for the past couple days, but it still hasn’t been enough to put out the fire.
2. As of late a lot of things have felt arid to me, but I’m working on ignoring that feeling and keeping busy. Writing things for the sake of writing, watching movies, listening to a new song and really focusing on the words – anything that shifts my focus or distracts me. It’s difficult to be proud of doing any of those things when most people don’t see them as productive or useful. Thing is, they’re a lot more productive and useful than what I’d be doing otherwise. It’s better to invest my time into things that won’t matter in a few weeks than to sit and worry about how things are getting drier and drier. The fire could spread at any moment, but I can’t control that. Nobody likes to focus on a sense of impending doom, now do they?

[feb 16th] the port hills fires

Now that I’ve submitted my final assessment for this trimester, I’m free to write on here some more. The major event of this week has been the fires that have been spreading across the Port Hills and threatening some suburbs in Christchurch.


The fire started four days ago; the air was filled with so much smoke that the harbour looked blue, and little pieces of ash were raining from the sky. More than 1000 people have evacuated their homes and I think 11 houses have been burned down.

I’m lucky enough to be far enough away from the fire that my house isn’t in immediate danger. It feels weird right now because even in the middle of something bad happening, I feel kind of detached from it. Like I’m seeing it as something bad that’s already over, something that’s in the distant past? I don’t know. I deal with a lot of things by pretending they’re not happening, which is good in some situations but not so good when I apply this to essay deadlines.