Does anyone love a fire as much as I do? We have burned a brush pile every year. Spring comes along and our two acres are littered with branches that have been brought down by wind (nature's way of getting rid of dead wood) and the weight of snow. The brush pile has our Christmas tree on it, two wreathes and the results of last fall's rhodo pruning project.
Today was a good day to burn. It was cool. The ground was damp and there was no wind. David went to the fire station, got a burn permit (no burning after May 1), turned on the outside hoses, raked the oak leaves away from the pile and lit it. There was a conflagration!
Over the years, the burn pile has been an important family event. The girls used to invite friends over and as the coals turned a deep orange at the end of the day, we would roast hot dogs and marshmallows, pull up a bench and eat by the fire. Today Eliza is leading a trip in the canyons of Utah with eight high school students and is out of communication. Carrie is in Pakistan leading a conference for women on Peace Building and is also pretty much out of communication. So I sent Tim a text message and photo of the fire. He was on his way home from surfing (brrrr) in York, Maine, taking a day off from his work, and stopped by on his way home. He got caught up in the thrill of a fire as much as we did. What a way to warm up after being in the Atlantic Ocean on a very cold day! I can't begin to describe the intense heat of this fire!
Fire brings life and takes it away. It is such a powerful element. We stand and stare at it, unable to avert our eyes. It is ever changing as wood and leaves turn to smoke. As I write this at 9:30 pm it is still smoldering down there, warm and red under the grey ash. Pretty soon we will have to douse it with water. The sizzle and hissing and dense smoke associated with this gets me every year. How mean it feels to put out the glowing embers.
2 comments:
Aren't rituals wonderful! Think how this might have been characterized at the Lascaux Caves.
Ancient throwbacks to the most basic of elements.
I can smell it and hear it! Your description takes me back to huge fires on the farm. Most were filled with brush, but the final one that burned from dawn 'til way into the following night burned the trappings of 32 years on the farm. Dolls, sheep feeders, rotten fence posts, tax files, and oh so many stories! It's good to have the stuff gone....it's a light load I carry, but one that is heavy with great stories.
Thanks for the trip, Barb!
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