The smoke and flames looked about a quarter of a mile away and firefighting Canadairs flew low overhead. But after the wind changed and the smoke and flames headed back towards us, we left, and the house survived. At the bend in the road, looking back, I could see a massive bank of flames rise behind the hill. Later, at about 11 p.m., on my terrace sipping local Carpe Diem rosé, we counted 90 fire trucks coming down the hill. Next morning I left Cathy sleeping and went to check her house.