Flame musings


My fireplace got it's first fire of the season

I've had a fire going since last night. It's my first of the year.

Of course I have matches and lighters, but some fires have to be started right. Almost any ritual fire for example.

One of my sketches floating around somewhere is a fireplace with a flame well. I based the idea on some reading I had done on the Eternal Flame and JFK's grave site. It would be a small propane flame vented into the main chimney. From the front it would be a small metal and glass door with a light behind it. The idea is that you always light it as a sacred flame, and the fire is there when you need it. Of course it has no "practical purpose" and I'd have to argue with the contractor and the mason to get it built.

Along the same lines, I stole an idea from a preacher friend of mine. Years ago he did a pilgrimage to Israel and collect some River Jordan water in a large bottle. He keeps topping it off with other water, but that is the water he uses for baptisms. My water started in an artesian well in what I think is a holy place. I've topped it off over the years, mainly with rainwater. I like to use a few drops in my own rituals.

But then there is the fire. I really really like fireplaces and firepits and bonfires. I suspect that there was more at work in my selection of the online handle of NeoWayland. Certainly my namesake would have had his own fascination with flame. Incidentally, Wayland's Feast Day is November 23. These days I try to mark that with a toast and offering.

Valiente writes poetically of how civilizing the cauldron bubbling over the fire was. She probably has a point.

Me, I just love staring into the flames and letting my mind go.

I wonder what would have happened if the TV hadn't replaced the hearth.

Fire Good.

Yes indeedy.

If I do have to travel next week, that is certainly something I will miss. Coming home and waking up your own fire brings out something very primal. It's your place, and you're the one who stands here between the Day and the Night. The only thing that makes that better is a warm bed and a willing partner. It doesn't even have to be a bed, a nest in front of the flames is better.

It's one thing that some don't understand about the desert, especially the high desert. There's nothing to hold the heat. Even in summer it can get chilly.

When I was a kid, the best kind of fire was the one that cooks the food that I caught or killed. Fish with my grandfather, doves with my cousins, great stuff. I was never deer hunting with my uncles (although my name was drawn a few times, hmm, wonder how that happened?), so fresh venison is good too.

In the summer you can see the wildfires a hundred miles off. It's a thin red-orange line at the horizon.

But in autumn and winter, fire always makes me think of Home with a capital H.

My granddad was the one who taught me the secrets of Keeping the Flame. Not that hard, but worth it. I can still picture him, pipe in his mouth, watching that fire carefully. It's something I hope to pass on one day. Well, not the smoking. Although I do have all his pipes except the one he was using just before he died.

Fire watching makes me mellow and warm inside.

Fire good.

Posted: Thu - October 29, 2009 at 01:32 PM
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