It was cold last night, really cold, the kind of cold that makes me think about putting socks on. I loath socks, better to build a fire again after a very long season of fires I had hoped was over.
The first fire in the fall is a magical experience, as if I were discovering it's warmth and light for the first time, the sweet scent of woodsmoke, before a long nights slumber.
By the time February gets here, the fire is still warm and comforting as the wind howls in the chimney and the snow piles up, I am wondering if I will ever see green leaves again. It has become second nature to tend it there is no more day dreaming as I gaze into the flames, I see no dragons and castles and viking ships, or sounth sea beaches, just ashes to empty.
With the lilacs in full bloom, and the tomato plants shivering in the summer kitchen, there is noreason not to think that this will be the last really cold night. I can enjoy my coffee and may-be even read, no it's much more fun to day dream.
