Watching the Fire ...

Watching the fire burn … it started right up from the embers this morning.

I tossed in a handful of the willow twigs raked up in the fall as the wind blew them down, a scrap of paper or two, some sticks on top—part of the tree that died next door. It started right up, but seems to have lost a little spark, starting to slow down.

I flip the log, add a little more kindling and a couple sticks on top, and off it goes again. Kind of like the day. I wake up a little slow, but once I start moving, the energy builds and the momentum carries me through breakfast for 3, packing school lunches, dishwasher loading and a quick check of email. Now, kids are gone, one load of laundry folded, I’m watching the fire to make sure it’s not going to crap out on me. So as I sit here at 8:30 a.m., it’s still, peaceful.

It’s nice to take a couple of minutes and enjoy the quiet in the house. Relative quiet, I should clarify. The dishwasher chunks away in the kitchen (it’s about a decade younger than I am), the fireplace fan is assertively blowing the warm dry heat on me, the chair squeaks as I shift on it.

The snow is blowing horizontally outside my window, and I am content to sit inside and watch it. Thinking, though, that it’s just about time for a cup of tea, or coffee. Because after a few minutes of quiet, peace, I feel it’s time to get up again. I can hear that other load of laundry waiting to be folded, the fresh stock in the frig waiting to be turned into soup, the deck waiting to be shoveled, scripts finished, the outline for my convention presentation this summer needing to be emailed—today… when I write it. The day has cycles, as does the year, the life. I am appreciating this still part of my day’s cycle, watching the fire chew up the wood, turning it into light, and heat, and comfort. Wishing you light, and heat and comfort in your day, too.