Around the fire is a special kind of quiet

Fire has a life all of its own.

In the beginning, the fire requires careful nurturing and just the right environment, fuel that isn’t so big that it will snuff it away, a puff of oxygen at just the right time and place to breathe it into being.

If the conditions are favorable and the beginning well traversed, a roaring blaze will soon appear - living, breathing, crackling, and popping, born to consume the energy of what it touches and transform it into something more, something magical, something beautiful but dangerous. It will dance and sing, and mesmerize anyone willing to brave the challenge of its heat and follow the patterns of its twists and turns, the changing of its foundation, and the shifting of its goals.

Slowly though, without fail, the energy will fade, the fuel wane, and the scorching heat of the blaze will slow to a heated smolder - smoking and crackling with the memory of wild abandon not long past. A gentle puff of air or an accidental piece of wood will bring back reflections of the fire’s former glory - but only for a brief time, before the embers settle back into their glowing warmth.

All too soon, the glowing coals, with a final breath, will be fire no longer, and leave only the burnt-out shell as evidence of what once was.

It’s a special kind of quiet, sitting outside as the sun sets, watching a fire live through its short time on Earth. There’s much that could be done, maybe some things that should be done, but the melodies of the birds and the quiet harmonies of the brook and frogs lull into a sense of serenity, a sense that this moment, right now, is what matters. For all too soon, the embers will fade, and all that will remain is a memory of the dance and the burning passion that once was…