Lighting the homefires

Most of the perennials have finished their blooms and the fire bushes that line our car pad are looking distinctively orange. This morning, I could see just a touch of fiery orange in a maple tree down the hill behind the house. The impact of this, though not yet dramatic, leaves the distinct feeling that summer is getting ready to make a graceful exit. Even though we are still getting daily temps in the low 80's, mornings now are perfect for coffee and newspaper on the deck until well into mid-morning. By 6 pm, it is comfortable, even pleasant to sit in the shade. By sunset, the evening air is taking on a distinctly different feel. The night time air, if not crisp, is definitely coolish.

Last week, with a fast moving cool front passing over us, the lows dropped into the high 40's, and the urge to smell wood smoke became almost palpable. Our fire place is equipped with gas logs. Convenient, yes, but it loses something in translation compared with a real wood fire. Not to worry, as outdoor fires are still allowed (as far as I know) here in Waterford. So off to the woodpile with ax and mallet, to bring some old logs down to campfire size. Some old firewood has been there for what in Louisiana would look like about 12 months of aging, so I did not expect to find it in great condition. But I was wrong. Once split, it was in very good shape, and completely dry. In about 20 minutes I had enough kindling size pieces for a first rate campfire.

When I was active in Boy Scouting, one of my jobs was to train young scouts in the proper way to build a campfire. Amazingly, I have retained most of that knowledge. A bit of tender, a few twigs and chips, and the fire was ready to light. In fact, it worked so well that if old-men could get scouting badges, I surely would have earned one. We enjoyed it for about an hour, watching the flames, trying to stay out of the smoke (which of course found us no matter where we sat), and poking at the fire to keep it going.

The only thing missing was the bag of marshmallows. Not surprisingly, by the next afternoon a bag of them had mysteriously appeared on the table. I think I had better find some roasting sticks before the next cool front arrives.