It’s cliché by now, but apocalyptic is what it feels like in the Pacific Palisades neighborhood of Los Angeles. The place is simply unrecognizable. By now hundreds of homes — including mega-mansions — have burned. You can see the naked chimneys in the orange haze.

Most of the business area in this wealthy enclave, including the big supermarkets and mom-and-pops are burning right now. The wind is bending thick swirls of flame over Sunset Boulevard and the firefighters are helpless to stop it.

Some of the firefighters are just standing by and waiting for some of the structures to burn. But many others are trying to put as much water on the remaining structures as they can.

At this point there must be many billions of dollars in property damage.

The iconic Sunset Boulevard is now a slalom course of downed trees and burning husks of tree stumps spewing embers. Houses on both sides are engulfed making passage for first responders treacherous.

There are still hours left of this wind event. And given the weather, there could be additional fires anywhere in the county in the coming hours.

I’ve been in Los Angeles nine years. This is the most unsafe it has felt.

After covering the fire in the Palisades for eight hours on Tuesday, I went to my aunt’s house right off Sunset to rescue documents and some family possessions. The multi-story building across the street was fully engulfed.

My wife’s cousin’s home nearby is likely lost by now. After a 35-minute ride home Tuesday, I encountered a fire 300 yards from my house, which was surrounded by the wail of sirens.

Once I got home the lights flickered. The power was out at my in-laws’ house a few miles away in Studio City. Parts of Santa Monica are under mandatory evacuations orders. Pasadena is being besieged farther east with what could be another monstrous fire. Other towns too.

I write not to elicit sympathy, but to underscore how real and how pervasive the threat feels to the millions in this windstorm’s cross hairs.

We all know the dreaded fire could ignite anywhere, sprouting like seeds in the wind, no matter which exclusive neighborhood you might call home, or how far from a fire zone your insurance carrier says you are. So many of us have go-bags packed.