A Warm Fire

I imagine that it is difficult to find comfort in a personal way during the winter months. especially during a particularly cold spell when the ice falls and the temperature falls lower, freezing up life itself and stopping all freedoms of movement. The whole season is like a temporary death while we wait to travel back closer to the sun. I don’t like the cold, but there is a simple pleasure I take in the colder parts of the winter, and that is, a warm fire.
If you ever you stayed at my papa’s house on a cold miserable night you would find that there was indeed warmth to the point of discomfort,  the sun would have been envious of the amount of heat he could make with an old stove packed full of wood and coal. Those cold nights that I lay on a couch sweating I suppose were a prelude to a rite of passage.
This ritual doesn’t require tea, but it is a nice touch. It doesn’t require sleep either, yet you can find some, but when the snow starts to fall, then there is no hurry to get anywhere and no need to sleep in anticipation of a busy schedule. There is, from there, one thing left to do, and that is to keep the fire.
Usually I will set up late, poking around at the hot ash, fueling this beautiful creation made by the joining of man and nature: the flame, air, and someone to sew them together with fuel from the earth. I’ll sip on tea and watch it for hours till my eyes start to burn before I lay down, and then, I merely doze with the blanket off me so that I might feel that cold nip that lets me know that the fire needs tending.
Its these nights and the coming of spring that have taught me that winter is there to remind us of the good feeling of being warm.

Salutation Pending 
Johnny R Draper 

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