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In the last week alone, there have been 3 brush fires within a mile of my apartment. Right smack-dab in the middle of the city, the smokey smell wafts into my windows, and I'm constantly reminded of the volatility of the natural areas right outside my door. But as the firefighter sirens sing down my neighborhood streets and the copters circle overhead, I'm relieved that my town is safe because of some sleep-deprived, 20-something-year-old hero on the tail-end of a 36-hour shift.
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