This photo was tweeted yesterday by Rockies farmhand Jeffrey Squier, who claims this is seven miles from his fiance's home near Yuma and Wray, Colorado yesterday.
When I was about nine years old, I lived in the foothills west of Fort Collins. My parents randomly told me to take a nap, which was weird, but my mom promised she had a fun for afterward. The plan was to go to the drive in theater, my only experience with it, where we watched Jack and slept through Phenomenon. The spontaneity never made sense. The origin of the plan was actually my neighbor's stupidity.
It turns out that 30 minutes before my mom told me to take a nap, the neighbor kid, 12, was home alone and shot off fireworks into the dry mountainside. I napped as the foothills caught on fire and fire crews arrived, then she whisked my brothers and I out of the house in the only way she knew we could be gone past bedtime without being suspicious. Over 20 acres burned, but the wind blew the fire away from our house fortunately. That's my fire story, and fortunately, it is boring.