Maria and I were off on Friday, and it took us a while to realize that those dirty brown clouds above us weren't clouds at all.
It wasn't until a friend at the CW emailed me, joking about fire, that I called back: "Watchoo talkin' bout?"
He was stunned. I hadn't heard? Burbank was on fire. I told him God must be angry for the "Pussycat Dolls" reality show.
At that point, we started to see the plume of smoke above the Hollywood sign, as well as the helicopters ferrying water. I snapped the shot above, but it's not nearly as good as the ones posted all afternoon on Blogging.la and Flickr.
I later called our pals Tony and Becky, who live close to the Oakwood Apartments -- ground zero to today's fire. They raced home, brainstorming along the way what important items they should attempt to save. Luckily, the wind was blowing east, allowing the fires to consume empty land rather than homes.
We were nowhere close to the fires, but the road closures impacted much of the city. Driving through Silver Lake and Los Feliz, traffic crept along as we slowly made our way home.
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