The Maui fires. The conversation you can't leave for later.

My son saw the images from Maui and asked the question I was not ready for: 'Is the world going to burn?'

Not: is Hawaii going to be alright. Not: can they put it out. Not any of the manageable questions. The one that goes directly to the thing underneath all the others.

I had about two seconds to decide what kind of answer to give. The reassuring answer, which would have been partially dishonest. The honest answer, which risked being overwhelming. Or something in between — which is usually where the true answer lives.

I said: parts of it are burning right now, and that's real and it's serious. Other parts of it are more protected than they were twenty years ago. Both things are true at the same time.

He considered this. Then: 'Which thing is bigger?'

I said: I don't know. Nobody knows for certain. The people working on the bigger thing believe they're making progress. The people watching the burning parts aren't sure the progress is fast enough.

He nodded slowly. The nod of someone who has received information that is genuinely uncertain and is trying to hold it without resolving it.