This was taken at about 6:45am half a block from my house. The little neighborhood that the fire was closing in on was being evacuated. Of course, I had to take the time to shoot some photos!
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As it burned, they tried to flee. They drove, they walked and ran, they scrambled any way they could away from the devastation.
It was humanity's way. The instinct of survival. For years, they moved on from their little hiding holes and places of sanctuary as the destruction advanced, found them, destroyed some more. Even as they continued to dwindle into smaller and smaller numbers, becoming more and more savage, territorial, and devolved in the centuries to follow, they survived.
In the end, that survival failed, but to the alien peoples that destroyed them, it was a testament to a will that astounded them. It had been hopeless, but they'd fought and struggled and hid and moved to the single last person alive.
The final piece of the earth burned, and they moved on, hoping to find a foe as worthy again.
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