There’s nothing like campfires; the mesmerizing flame, the scent of burning bark, the warmth from red hot embers. They have a magical way of drawing us near, whether it’s to roast marshmallows, share a story or strum a guitar. And though they can instantly revive childhood memories of family vacations and summer camp, they keep us spellbound to the present while flickering beneath a star-lit sky.
For three years, while we were building our lakefront home, the fire pit was held in high regard. As well as being our primary heat source and outdoor cooking range, it became our family’s communal meeting place. It warmed us up on chilly mornings, provided grand finale comfort at the end of each day and offered an ongoing panorama from its pretty hillside perch – encompassing everything from our evolving log home and jewel-toned shoreline to the majestic inky-blue mountains that framed the backdrop.
It’s a place where we shared many thoughts, goals, dreams and, yes, the occasional song. I can’t think of another spot on this earth where I could challenge my adult kids to a game of 20 questions, share a spooky story (accentuated by eerie flashlight effects), or sing a chorus of “Five Hundred Miles.”
Whether the mood was as lively as the crackling flames, or quieter than the soothing glow, beneath the big Cariboo sky, there was always a feeling of connectedness. Looking back, I realize some of our best family memories were created around this sizzling circle.
So, what happens now? The house is built. We have a cozy roof over our heads and the luxury of an indoor firebox. The hand-picked rocky hearth is certainly a highlight of the homestead, but it doesn’t seem to have the same connecting capabilities as our outdoor inferno. Will we ever go back to our rendezvous around the fire ring, or has this blazing sidekick become as obsolete as family car camping? And will I ever sing another chorus of “Kumbaya” again?
After months of isolation, due to COVID-19, our lake place has been a safe haven, and we’ve enjoyed lots of family time, while remaining in our bubble. I think about how fortunate we are as I watch our offspring and their significant others head out for an afternoon stroll. The autumn days have become a little cooler and mornings have even had frost, so there will be good reason to warm up afterwards, even if it is indoors.
Who’d want to huddle around a nippy outdoor fire pit when there’s a smokin’ hot chimney to cuddle up in front of? Pull up an easy chair, grab a good book and a cup of hot cocoa – does it get any better?
The crackle of burning pitch and smell of sweet pine seeps into the kitchen where I prepare dinner. I naturally assume it’s coming from our great room, where my husband is stoking the fire. “It’ll be a toasty welcome when the crew comes in from the cold,” I say to myself, more as affirmation than any other reason. “Who needs a campfire when you have all the comforts of home?”
A quick glance out the kitchen window gives me my answer. Instead of retreating to the heated family room, huddled on the hillside and bundled in their autumn duds are five of our crew. They’ve formed that familiar ring and all eyes are riveted on the one primary focal point – those licking flames. The fiery blaze cuts into the fresh timber, crackles and pops, then lashes about in the blustery fall breeze. Yet, despite the chill factor, it has their undivided attention. And after watching, I realize nothing will ever take the place of this communal hot spot.
Campfire connections – it’s a place where tales are told, games are played and a round of “Oh Susanna” will be revived again!
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