Yuletide fire? Visitors often wonder whether Southern California actually has seasons. In fact, a remarkable landscape metamorphosis usually begins with the first rains of November. The parched brown hills surrounding our cities begin to turn green—by March, they’ll sometimes look like Connemara—and the clock hands on the fire-danger signs are dialled back from red (extreme danger) to blue (moderate) or green (low). But not this year. The year’s pattern of record-breaking high temperatures continued into the fall, without a moisture-laden cumulus cloud in sight. And the current level of fire danger is so high that the U.S. Forest Service has described them using the hyperbolic color purple, to signify “extreme.” In such conditions, one either prepares to run or prays to Eurus and Ehécatl, the respective Greek and Aztec wind gods.
Who or what is causing these outbreaks? There are two schools of thought. Those who study historical fire patterns argue that the sources of ignition are irrelevant. The fundamental fire equation in California has three variables: the fuel mass, including the age and dryness of brush; the extent of residential and other development into chaparral and forest ecologies; and the intensity of the wind. Wildfire, in other words, “happens” with or without human assistance, although traditional Smokey-the-Bear-type fire prevention, which reduced the frequency of fires and thus preserved unnaturally large areas of old brush, made great firestorms more likely. Today this irony is fully understood by fire professionals, but their efforts to reduce fuel accumulation through controlled burns comes up against the ever-increasing presence of residential development in foothills and mountains. For one thing, homeowners have hungry lawyers who love to sue public agencies after a burn goes wild or simply generates too much unhealthy smoke.
The other school of thought focusses on chronic sources of ignition. The Witch Creek fire, to take only one example, was caused by an arcing power line in the San Diego backcountry. San Diego Gas and Electric, while insisting that the blaze was an act of God, eventually paid out two billion dollars in damages to fire victims. (The utility’s attempt to shift part of that cost to ratepayers was recently defeated in court.) Poorly maintained power lines are prime suspects in some of this fall’s fire outbreaks as well. And there is the additional worry that terrorists, domestic or international, may someday become part of the fire cycle. A friend of mine, a world-renowned authority on wildfire, once told me about a nightmare he has during periods of high fire danger, in which a single, determined arsonist, with a map and a cigarette lighter, rides a motorcycle.