I know I have to be careful. It is fire after all. But the land’s so dry this year. Well not just this year. This time of year. The ground is littered with tinder. For me to get a fire started is easy. But the winds through the Sawtooths have a vicious way of picking everything up. So I have to clear the area first. Dig out a pit. Line it with rocks. Keep some sand and water close. The precautions necessary just for breakfast may seem like a bit much, but then having a raw diet is a bit much. And as warm as the days are, I’m still sitting here cold. There’s a certain amount of relief, a sort of connection to society and other humans when I’m alone that a spark brings. It’s something only I could make. Lightning aside. The flames that follow are proof of my existence, yet ones no one notices. Or should notice if I built this campfire correctly.
Early mornings like this, before I’ve eaten, before I’ve made coffee, as the sparks are just catching it’s tempting to just watch. There’s the flickers of flames as they move about the tinder. But there’s also the light as it cascades over the peaks and falls upon the hills and valleys below. It’ll be some time before I’m in the light, but watching it, knowing it’s coming provides a welcome start to the day.
Today’s art is courtesy of Alex Monge from Madrid, Spain.