The cold arrives on ghosts of fog drifting across our yard, riding on the back of the river. It's calling for a fire, but our winter wood still lies stacked on the side of Mount Brown. It will take an effort to bring it all down. Bringing fire into our home is inviting an angelic visitation, a sacred time, a miracle. Its warmth, light, and presence turn our home into a holy space, a gift of God’s great goodness and creative sharing. Life, in its simplest is often its most sincere. I must move the wood down.
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| Aaron, Scout, Pri Pri, Bray, and Knox helping to split fire for our Holy Places. |
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