Fire

Each evening we gathered sticks, rotten bark and fallen trees and added them to the pile. We talked, we laughed, we shared as we gathered our load. Conversations would blend one into the other, topics often spanning from one night to the next. The effort could take hours on one day and only minutes another. The discussions rode their own wave of calmness interrupted by peaks of emotion. My friend and I, sometimes consoled each other, providing support. Then again, sometimes playing devil’s advocate to see a new perspective. Our branches often aligned but could also cross in disagreement. As the talks grew deeper, the pile became higher. Summer heat and winter cold may have slowed the building but still it progressed year after year. We were eliminating scaffolding material from the forest floor and tending the land. This desire we held in common. Snow would settle on the pile and the wood would shift and groan. The spring melt would reveal that our pile had become stronger and meshed into a solid foundation.

It was not time to set fire to our construction. The conditions were not right. There could be no wind, the soil must be moist, the wood must be dry and there must be time to tend the intensity. So we continued to add brush and open our hearts in friendship. The fire was not the objective. It was the time in the woods, the watching the pond turn to glass, the deer creeping close enough to nibble the moss that clung to the branches at our feet, throwing sticks for Dodge and Aries, and embracing the good fortune of these moments.

Then one day we saw that the pile was smoldering. We did not know how this had started or when. We had been so careful in our actions. Each time my friend and I met to work in the forest, we avoided stirring up the heat that crept under the pile. Water was pored over, soil was dumped on top, and leaves were raked away. Still we could feel it linger.

Then one night, the mountain that we had built, ignited. It started deep within and flamed out in every direction. Instead of fighting the fire, we drew close and relished the warmth. I looked at my friend and he at me. The light from his eyes told me all I needed to hear. The years of building and tending, talking and sharing had secretly prepared us for this moment. Love had crept in like a thief in the night. Quietly without fanfare, sure and true. As I moved into his embrace, passion exploded and would not be extinguished. An inferno burned across my guarded heart melting the walls of defense in an instant. The sparks flew even higher into the starry sky and I knew I was safe at last.

October 16,2015