October 27th was unseasonably warm in the day, and particularly comfortable in the evening. The kind of night where a fire felt just right.
With remanded wood from deserted campers, and fallen limbs of the backyard from summer storms, I filled the barbecue grill. The highway in the backdrop.
Fill the ash can with leaves, line the bottom grate with small sticks, build as required – one light, one fire
It was raucous in the bowl. The flames sliding up the sides, skateboards on a half pipe, waves in a marina.
Then the winds came, and came and came. Strong and steady towards the northeast.
I left so much in the flames. Beyond the aesthetic fire serves a grand purpose. The disposing of things, both violent and neat. Let it all go, let it all be gone.
It died in brilliant red embers, as every good fire does.