Everywhere I look around I see houses being re-roofed. Old shingles are slid into yawning dumpsters below. Bright, new plywood sheeting stands stark next to older, more resilient sheeting from the last tear-off. Scaffolding is staggered around walls of houses and on the valleys of the roofs. Smart rows of new shingles shine in the early Autumn sun. The volume of work in the neighborhood whispers of "Hurry, hurry!" against wind, rain, and snow.
We're on a mini-vaca in an area where they're experiencing forest fires (thanks asshole arsonist). It's an area that makes Clifton Hill in Niagara Falls, Ontario look rinky dinky. Holy cow. Pigeon Forge/Gatlinburg is no joke. Tomorrow we try to escape it and find some peace and nature in the (literally) Smoky Mountains.