The thick pall of smoke hanging over Ventura County for most of Sunday afternoon turned daylight into sickly looking dusk. Santa Anas roiled the smoke low. The acrid scent curled noxious. Ashes joined other debris and vegetation skittering along the pavement and piling up against walls. Dust filtering into buildings coated surfaces with a gritty texture.

Only late in the afternoon, when the Santa Anas abated and cooler air arrived, did sunlight return. Light and shadow began replacing the monochromatic haze that had poured over the county.

Not much to be done when so many fires rage across Southern California except wonder what it would be like if flames and not just smoke advanced closer.

Be prepared to evacuate. Don't wait until the last minute. Such thoughts put possessions in a different light. What becomes necessary? What becomes most precious? What becomes expendable?

Aside from people and pets, the most critical possessions to take would be important documents — identification, home deeds, mortgage papers, birth certificates, for example. Running a close second would be financial records — credit cards, check books, stock portfolios and the like. Then computer hard drives, clothes, family pictures and other personal treasures loaded into the car. Cell phones, iPods and other small electronic devices can be slipped into a pocket.

But then what? How much of one's life can be crammed into a car? How much must be left behind in harm's way?

People fill their lives with things that add function and bring comfort — things often taken for granted, used when needed, left idle otherwise.

But such accumulation has a downside. People become so enamored with what they own, they define their lives by them. When urgent necessity forces them to pare the layers of their lives to the essentials, decisions become difficult and very personal:

— Vintage 78 records autographed by some of the biggest names in jazz and the big-band era or an extra suitcase of clothes?

— Books autographed by writers living and dead or Grandma's china set from the 1930s?

— A collection of 250 vinyl record albums from the 1960s or cartons of writings that haven't yet been transferred to a computer?

Some items must be left behind:

— CDs, DVDs, dishes, pots, furniture and entertainment systems can be easily replaced.

— The Mustang bought new in 1969 that has been waiting 20 years to be restored would have to be abandoned.

— The 400-volume library of books, collected over 40-plus years, that offers a beginning understanding of how the 1960s affect events today would be too bulky to save.

Leaving any of these behind would be difficult. Coming back to find them destroyed by fire would certainly devastate. Very few people could be so coldly human as to walk away and not look back.

Yet, wandering through the haze of Sunday afternoon, with the smell of smoke so strong it seemed as if the fire burned not more than a hundred feet away, the things of life began to take on less importance.

Sure, the items would be missed. One cannot spend a lifetime accumulating things without some attachment to them. And one cannot accumulate things without a few taking on monetary value as well as sentimental value. But not facing imminent danger, imagining how such a tragic loss would unfold emotionally escaped understanding. Perhaps that can't be possible until the danger arrives just outside the door.

By early Monday morning, sunrise still two hours away, the smell of smoke still lingering, thoughts of fire rolling through the area and destroying the accumulation of a lifetime lessened.

Wind-fanned fires in the hills and canyons of Southern California can be erratic and turn from consuming brush to consuming houses in a matter of minutes. Still, people can prepare for that. They can have what they need to take and want to take easily accessible. What of other disasters? In an earthquake, there might be only enough time to scramble outside with nothing more than the clothes worn and no way to save anything else.

That puts possessions in a different perspective — they remain just things, the fluff of life, significance added only because they become reminders of certain moments in life and certain journeys taken, sparks for memories.

Disaster cannot erase these memories. They define a person's journey through life more clearly than any material possession can. And in recalling that journey, it becomes quickly apparent what things have incalculable worth —life, health, family and friends.

— Richard Larsen is a deputy opinion page editor at The Star. His e-mail address is rlarsen@VenturaCountyStar.com.