It’s not often that Louisianans pray for rain in late August, when painful anniversaries of hurricanes pass and new systems threaten to repeat destruction. But as hundreds of wildfires engulfed tens of thousands of acres of land in the state, swallowing homes and forcing evacuations, some turned their heads skyward for a source of hope.

“If you could pray for rain, that would be much appreciated,” said Mark Herford, sheriff of Beauregard Parish, where the Tiger Island Fire has burned 33,000 acres in a matter of days and is only 50% contained. 

He said real relief is unlikely until rain comes. Statewide, wildfires have scorched 50,000 to 60,000 acres of land so far — or between roughly 78 and 94 square miles, according to Herford’s office. 

State and local officials begged the public to heed the statewide burn ban — to not cook outside, not throw cigarette butts out of cars, not drive over dry grass nor do anything else that could spark a fresh flame. 

Gov. John Bel Edwards said Saturday it’s “remarkable” no lives have been lost so far to the fires. The hundreds of wildfires come amid weeks of unusually hot temperatures and dangerously dry conditions, a combination that left behind parched land and brittle trees ripe for ignition. 

“There’s nobody alive who remembers seeing conditions this dangerous with respect to the drought we have,” Edwards said at a press conference held at the Vernon Parish Emergency Operations Center. “The temperatures have never been this hot for this long. We’ve not had this lack of rainfall.”

Flames forced mandatory evacuations in parts of Vernon Parish late Saturday afternoon.

“LEAVE NOW!! FIRE IS MOVING SOUTHBOUND AT HIGH RATE OF SPEED,” urged a social media post from the Louisiana State Police.

In Beauregard Parish, the flames forced the town of Merryville, with a population of roughly 1,000, to evacuate Friday and for many others to flee. Some local schools planned to meet virtually for classes Monday. The fire destroyed more than 20 structures, most of which were residential, Herford said. 

Casey Tingle, director of the Governor’s Office of Homeland Security and Emergency Preparedness, warned at a Wednesday press conference that the conditions were likely to remain or worsen in the coming days.

“There doesn’t appear to be any guaranteed relief in sight when you look at the forecast,” Tingle said.

Edwards declared a state of emergency earlier in August because of the extreme heat and drought. But the governor said the statewide burn ban hasn’t been followed — leading to avoidable destruction.

“Unfortunately, many of these fires could have been prevented if Louisianans were adhering to the statewide burn ban and practicing fire safety,” Gov. Edwards said in a press release. “We need everyone to do their part in order to prevent further fires with potentially tragic outcomes.”

Smoke from fires in the western part of the state settled over Baton Rouge and other parts of southeast Louisiana over the weekend. The city had some of the worst air quality of anywhere in the state, and a post from the National Weather Service in New Orleans advised those in the area with respiratory problems to avoid outdoor activities.

The wildfires, which officials have called unprecedented, also brought fear, shock and uncertainty to LSU’s campus.

“Something’s bad,” said environmental engineering freshman Jack Guice. “Something’s wrong—global warming, climate change.”

Scientists have predicted that the warming of the climate will make extreme weather events like wildfires, high temperatures and drought more common. 

“Although wildfires occur naturally, scientists have indicated that climate change has the potential to increase the frequency, extent, and severity of fires through increased temperatures and drought conditions,” the Louisiana Department of Health website reads. “Additionally, wildfires themselves become a contributor to climate change.”

Guice stared into the heat, eyebrows tensed, thinking. Sweat beaded and rolled down his temples. In the space between his thoughts and the world, stark futures simmered. 

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” he said. “So we need to make moves to prepare.”

Louisiana is accustomed to heavy rain and storms, but drought and wildfires are less familiar environmental crises.

“I thought Louisiana was real wet,” said Dylan Murrary, a history freshman from Pittsburgh. “I was expecting a whole lot of rain when I came down here, but … it’s just been dry. Heat. It’s been like 100 plus every day. It’s like, damn. How am I supposed to live out here? For real?”

Though there weren’t fires raging in Baton Rouge, the danger remained.

“The threat is there for every part of the state,” Tingle said. “And so regardless of whether you live in a forest, or you live in the in the prairie, or you live here [in Baton Rouge] in a very urban area, any kind of spark can create a very dynamic and dangerous situation.”

The suddenness of the loss was hard for students to comprehend.

“It’s horrible,” said political science freshman Sophia Malone. “I can’t imagine that, losing everything—and how traumatic that is.”

Malone grew pensive, folding into herself. 

“I’ve never been in that situation,” she stared, “or had to evacuate my home and leave everything and not know if it’s going to be there when I come back.”

Philosophy and history junior Madeline Schexnayder reflected on Louisiana’s transformation over the past few months.

“It’s definitely been different seeing the grass go so brown,” she pursed her lips, “It looks like, you know, it could burst out into flames.” 

Schexnayder’s glasses reflected odd shapes from a muted video playing on her computer screen. Suddenly, she looked up. 

“We’ve been praying for rain.”