After dragging several art pieces from the basement that were larger than me from Cory’s Art days in high-school, I loaded them onto the sled. After three trips to the creek the bonfire was ready to light. The day is crisp and dropped from the mid 40’s to single digits, but the sun is out bold and bright. The sled glides easily as the camera bounces on my chest. I stop by the pines to snap a shot and wonder at how much difference a day makes.

By the creek while unloading the loud boom as the ice settles makes me jump but I smile remembering the days of my youth ice skating on the pond, loving the booms as we skated. With paper and cardboard the brush pile now loaded with cavasses, painted plywood and sheeting lights easily in a hot satisfying smoky blaze. Cory had already cleaned out what he wanted and these last pieces have been staring at me as they lay against the basement walls for far too long. Up they go in a heavy cloud of smoke which soon turns to flames.

Cory, thirty today, had his first baby, a little girl, two days ago, a beauty, 7 lbs. 12 ounces. It feels like I’m saying good-bye to his childhood, to our relationship as it was, but welcoming the new one or at least learning to accept it. The in-between period is so painful and unknown as he cleaves to his wife and assesses his new family. That’s as it should be, yet it is hard to let go.  

Pulling up the Adirondack chair close to the warmth, gazing into the fire, it almost feels like summer and camping. The sweet scent of burning wood is earthy and intoxicating as the dancing fiery hues hold my gaze for a very long time. Samuel joins me finding more brush piles to add on.

“We go back to our roots Samuel, back to our tent days of moonlight, starlight and campfires,” I remind him still hypnotized by the mesmerizing waltz of flickering glows. 

He nods, enjoying the warmth on a frozen day with sun spilling forth endlessly. 

Finding a nice stick to poke pieces back in place, and adding from the pile near-by, my visit extends to several hours until the wind begins to chill my interior. I begrudgingly trudge up the meadow into the house for hot coffee.

It was a day of fire and ice.





6 thoughts on “FIRE & ICE

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