The carpenter and the flames
I happily build wooden piles with abandon. Others are cautious, I am not. For I love to make connections and build structures with everyone I meet - when I have the energy!
Earlier this year, I began, as usual, to make a wooden pile with one of the many new people in my life. There were lots of bits of sticks and shreds of wood, a tiny bit of newspaper.
And in a similar fashion, I shed sparks with equal abandon, and one landed in this pile. It landed on the paper, took light, and, with the kindling, began to burn. A lovely warmth, but one which quickly started to burn too. But this was a fire which was not reciprocated. It only took a small blow and the fire was out again. I also stopped tending this pile, no need for its warmth, there was a new fire, burning brightly with lots of paper and copious kindling, and maybe a log or two too.
But in building this fire, I used the old fire, and we began to build a small structure. A wooden plinth from which I watched my new fire. As I watched, this new fire took its course and burned out, and the plinth grew to a small hut, and, barely aware of the change I wandered from the hut and explored another forest, full of more wood! I had forgotten the plinth, the old fire was a distant memory.
Returning from my travels, back to the familiar wood, with its familiar wooden structures, or so I thought, and I tried to settle in again. But it was cold, things had changed, new people, and no wood to show - everyone seemed to be occupying this stark wooden jungle and I couldn't settle anywhere, nowhere comfortable, nowhere heather shaped. so I stepped away into the forest, worried I had no place again. Until the small hut beckoned to me. Here I am welcome, I saw, and in I went, out from the cold and into the warmth. And so together we continued to build the hut, until it became a lovely cottage. each room felt cozy and warm, and I realised a fireplace, growing from the embers of that previous fire so long ago, was burning again. How cozy and warm, I thought, and snuggled by the fire. By now a whole pile of chunky logs were sitting in the corner, I was happy with my lot.
But Fires sometimes fling hot coals, and this one did, it burned me on the shoulder. Resignedly I realised the fire had got out of control, and I needed to tame it.
And tame it I did - or so I thought, confined it to a fireplace, and looked from the window to search for other flames to distract me from the addictive warmth of this one. There was one - one I had noticed out of the corner of my eye while I was basking dizzily in this one. A small flame, but as I watched it was like kerosene had been poured over it and I could feel the heat from inside the cottage. So I stepped out.
I knew I needed to do this. If I didn't I would feed the fire - we would feed the fire until the whole house burned down and all the lovely work on this beautiful structure would be for naught.
But as soon as I stepped out, with a bang, the kerosine was used up, this new fire was out.
Frustratedly I turned back with abandon, I didn't care, Id step into that warm warm fire I'd made, who cares if I knew it would burn shortly. , I stopped short of full emersion but close I got, close enough to make me dizzy as more and more logs were piled on carelessly. The flames began to lick the walls of the cottage, and in panic, I stepped out, away from the flames. No, this is not a good idea. I need to get out of this hut, leave it until the fire is out. Until the embers are cold. And never fling any more sparks into the hut.
Now sadly I sit outside the cottage. it's cold out here, but there are some lovely but basic little huts I can squat in
Maybe I can build some new huts. Maybe one of them might even have a fireplace, one which fits, with a wood pile we can stack log after log, and where, rather than threatening the hut, it keeps the damp out, helps it get stronger and better. And maybe... one day... I will be able to return to my old cottage, being sure to leave my flints at home, stay away from the fireplace, and hang out in those cosy spots I have come to enjoy.