“It’s time to bring the chickens inside,” I told my husband on Sept. 10. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. All week I had watched as winds whipped down branches in my yard just south of Portland, Ore., and smoke from the fires some 20 miles away gave the sun an eerie red glow. Despite the red flag warning and the fires popping up all over the West Coast, I never imagined it would get worse than that. But geography won’t keep us safe from large wildfires anymore.