notes from the weekend

It is windless summer evening, comfortable cool and I am toasted by the fire.

I threw in a big, gnarly, stumpy, dense piece of wood.  It was left from last weekend's fire but it was still hard and hard to light.  Later when I poked at the fire, I knocked the stumpy piece into a pile of coals.  Very satisfying, that.  Here is a photo of the flame that arose out of that satisfaction.


When I recorded my moment of gratitude into my journal, I realized it was that exact moment when I was writing, straddling the bench next to the fire.  All was quiet except the distant throaty banter of ducks, the scrape of wood being chopped, the crackle of the fire.  All very blissful.  I was feeling awash with happiness and gratitude.  Sappy,  yes.  But nonetheless, true.


This big guy decided to join us and we found him right on the outside of our window.  As I went to take a photo, he flopped down on to the deck.  Warty, bumpy.  I loved looking at him, but didn't want to touch, which I'm sure he appreciated, thank you very much.



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