Stoking the Flames

I love fire - the way it pops and crackles, sizzles and whistles, with a blowing sound like wind through freshly cleaned laundry. The dancing flames mesmerize me even as they warm my cheeks, hands and knees.

Fires were always my favorite part of camping and bring back many fond memories of trips my husband and I used to take. Fire also reminds me of bonfires we went to and the wood burning fireplace at our honeymoon cabin in the Smoky Mountains. That smoky smell of burnt cedar which permeates clothes and hair is one I hate washing out.

I've always been a pyromaniac but have never been able to build a roaring fire of my own until tonight (above). I kept it going for three wonderful hours. It gave me time to think about the hundreds of pictures I'd gone through earlier in the day for the first time since I learned of my husband's infidelity. Surprisingly, I wasn't overcome with grief. Instead, only a thin veil of sadness lightly covered the overall joy I felt in looking back over 11 years of beautiful memories and I thought, even if he was able to let his go up in smoke, I will never cast mine upon the flames.

May your days ahead burn brightly,

RJ