The Last Fire
fire pit in mountains

The Last Fire

burning wood on fire pit
Photo by the blowup on Unsplas

We have a backyard fire pit.  It’s a cheapie from Walmart. Tonight is its last fire, because we now have a fire table. It’s awesome. It runs on Propane but will be converted to natural gas when we re-landscape next summer and connect it to our gas line.

I love to watch the fire. The flames lick the wood. The embers glow like an otherworldly cityscape.  The smell of the wood smoke reminds me of our family camping trip to Prince Edward Island. Cooking dinner over an open fire. Visiting every Anne of Green Gables tourist spot. Watching my youngest daughter scaling a rock wall before the instructor could finish his instructions. “How do I get down?” She called from the top of the rock climbing tower. If she had stopped to listen to instructions….  Too late.  She’s already up there.

How many times have I lit the fire before I thought about putting it out?  Prime example – I thought a fire tonight was a good idea. It’s almost midnight and I’m still sitting outside, waiting for it to safely burn down.

So, back to why this is the last fire. This particular fire pit has seen better days. It’s rusted. The grate on the top has completely broken open. Probably from me trying to cook over an open fire when it was still covered with snow.  (The fish tasted AMAZING, however, so it was totally worth it!)

The door doesn’t stay shut. Definitely a potential safety hazard depending on capricious Calgary wind gusts.   As it happens we have a disposal bin in our driveway, as we are disposing of our old flooring in anticipation of new flooring. Seems like a good time to get rid of those pesky lingering items around the home. First in line is our old fire pit.

It was enjoyable, but no longer functions the way we need it to.   Kind of like our old floor, hence the disposal bin. Makes me think about the old habits and hang ups in my life. The ones that don’t function the way I need them to anymore. Maybe it’s a good time to let them go. Toss them into the disposal bin. Make room for something new that functions better.

The last fire is burning down. Nothing left but glowing embers.  It has been good.  I have benefited from it.  But it’s time for something new.  

Something fresh.  

Something that will last.

 Anticipation. It’s a good moment. I breathe deep, stir the embers, and smile.

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