Larry and I had a fireplace in our first house. It wasn’t the fancy pre-plumbed gas one that we have now (with no logs) but an actual, honest-to-goodness wood burning one. We’d build fires occasionally, and I’d melt onto the sofa, happy as a clam. (Are clams happy?)
My allergies didn’t like the smoke or ash, and my nerves didn’t like it the day the squirrel came done the chimney, but the rest of me loved it.
I thought about that fireplace last night as we were seated near the fireplace in a restaurant. It was a gas-one, but the fire danced and made my heart warm.
This morning other fire images fill my news feed as two wildfires are now raging in Polk County where we live. They make my heart cold with fear and my blood boil at the idea that someone may have set them on purpose.
So this morning I pray for the firefighters who had a restless night and for the rain we so desperately need.