I woke this morning to smoke filled air; a cool 65 degrees at 7:00 in the morning. Dreaming of winter, I sipped coffee under a tinted red sky and thought how depressing it was that the mountains that I love so much where on fire again. Like the hills, I lament the dryness of this January. I have been dealing with an injury for the better part of two months now, and I am convinced that the lack of winter conditions is inhibiting the healing of my knee. It is difficult to sit and accept the things that should be different. There should be snow on the mountains; I should be able to run. Nonetheless the reality is the hills are on fire in January and there is not much I can do about it.