From a helicopter, the juxtaposition was halting: The gleam of the Pacific in its unchanging glory, running parallel for miles against sheer devastation.
Leveled homes, clubs and restaurants snaked along the shore, punctuated by billows of smoke from the few structures that remained. Cal Fire helicopters hummed along the coastline and ground fire crews gathered around a roof here, a fence there. But mostly, everything was just gone.
On Thursday afternoon, from 3,000 feet in the air, the magnitude of the destruction from the Palisades and Eaton fires was revealed in striking landscapes — whole neighborhoods flattened, a smoky haze settling over the city.
In Pacific Palisades, blazing orange jewels still dotted the ridges. The bluffs of the west side of the neighborhood were nearly unrecognizable: The inferno had torn down the cliffs, destroyed the scarps, hopped Pacific Coast Highway and ignited almost every last structure until it reached the sand.
Toward Eaton Canyon, a sleepy haze had settled over La Cañada Flintridge, and smoke still rose from the foothills. There were neat grids of smoldering rubble and chimneys — just chimneys — where cul-de-sacs had been.
From the west, the Los Angeles basin was yellow — the sun glistening on high-rises against the backdrop of a sienna haze. From the east, everything looked blue — ashy, cool-toned silhouettes of what still stood.
Over large swaths of the city, the scene was more familiar: cars inching along the freeways under a clear California sky. But as the helicopter pivoted, a dark cloud was swelling to the northwest just as we heard a voice on the air traffic radio — a new fire, it said.
The post Destruction From 3,000 Feet in the Air appeared first on New York Times.
