Article originally appeared on thefederalist.com.
As I flew above the terrain I called home for 20 years, tears streamed down my face. Covered in grey smoke, the west side was unrecognizable, as were the devastated territories of Pacific Palisades, Malibu, and parts of Topanga Canyon. I left Los Angeles a little over a year ago, but most of my friends remain there. My heart is still there.
The area that is currently burning to the ground has been my playground, as well as my therapist, for most of my adult life. The trees, trails, and beaches, a constant companion. At my lowest points, the mountains and the oceans were always there to save me. A hike to reduce my anxiety. A swim to wash away my cares. The cold salt water and sand soothed my sore, aching body from one too many workouts. I always slept like a baby after an ocean dip.
Less than 24 hours before the spark that would change everything, I treaded up and …
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