I can watch a fire for hours.
A controlled fire in a fire place or a braai fire or a bonfire for heat.
The flames kinda mesmerise me.
The shapes, the direction …
and there’s my Mom who likes to put egg cartons on the fire
to make it burn …
I like it too
because it brings momentary brightness,
loads of heat and of course glowing egg cartons.
Especially the trays. (see pic below)
everything in its wake.
The food on the grill too … if it is not being watched … if the fire is too hot … attention.
I watch. The flames. It almost feels like it’s calling me to see … find the answers that I am looking for for questions buried deep inside. Existential. Interesting. I wish I could find some of the answers there. But I also know that I’m not supposed to just find the answers … it will come when it’s time … some won’t. Those I have to let go.
Letting go … an interesting concept. Forgiveness. Words on a paper. Burn it. Released. Names on a paper. Burn it. Released. Old letters. Burn it. Strings cut. It helped when I needed it. To see a visual. To do something. To visually let someone and / or something go.
Burns away impurities for the silver and gold smith.
Hurts when it’s a wildfire.
Fire is also beautiful … to watch … look … see … listen … smell … art.
The destruction power of fire is something we always have to keep in mind.
So much gratitude for all those frontline fire workers … fire men and women, who tirelessly works to contain and stop wildfires when it happens.
It’s winter. We will be around lots of fires, mostly for warmth. Community. Family. Love.
And then … ash …