We’ve been saving wood scraps in a burn pile in the woods for maybe four years now. We didn’t want to light it during the summer or fall due to wildfire possibilities–but three inches of new-fallen snow is perfect. Twilight approaches: we grab newspaper, spruce kindling, lighter. Tonight we’re burning our beloved “bat house” that Barry made years ago when we tried to create bat habitat. Unfortunately, those darn bats preferred to snooze in knot holes in our old cedar siding. And these days you don’t see too many bats flying around; it seems many have succumbed to white nose syndrome. That’s sad, because bats eat all sorts of insects, and wee biting creatures can be unpleasant during mosquito, black fly, deer fly, no-see-um season in early summer.
Soon the pile burns, burns, burns! We carefully arrange more wood around the flames. Not too many all at once. It’s bonfire art. It’s sweet–standing around the fire, listening to the crackling wood, moving away from the smoke.
No marshmallows, no hotdogs, no s’mores. There’s spaghetti with veggies up at the house. We’ll tend the fire for several hours in the dark November evening.
Thanks for stopping by our bonfire. (This post has failed to be a Photo Short. It’s two photos and too many words to qualify. It’s a Photo Short wannabe, lol.)