Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Man has been around fire for thousands of years and for good reason. It provides warmth, it can make food tastier, it can be used as a tool and perhaps most importantly, it provides comfort. I can't think of a single time when I have sat down in front of a fire and not felt comfort. When you are sitting staring into the embers of a fire, all things on the periphery fade to black.
As a young boy, my parents would take my brother and I down to some bottom grounds with a fairly large tract of woods and we would go camping for an evening. There they taught me the art of building a good fire. These were training missions for our longer two week backpacking trips into the mountains of the west or canoeing trips down various rivers. I took great pride in digging a fire pit, building fires with one match on the first day and from old embers subsequent days and finally disguising the pit so you would never know I had been there.
Sitting around the fire, one felt free to talk without repercussion. You bared your soul and others listened. You reminisced about the good times, talked about politics and the current world and pondered the future. You laughed, talked and drifted into long periods of comfortable silence. Then the fire did the talking with a snap, crackle and pop.
With plenty of firewood and a fire pit left by a previous owner, I have built several fires outside and positioned myself near in a nice folding canvas chair. I have't done so nearly as often as I should but as often as needed to sooth my soul. After the others have left, I like to linger for another hour or so watching the fire burn down into a bed of glowing embers and let my mind wander or be silently, deliciously blank. During these times, I have not a care in the world. I am comfortable.