Late October, early evening. Who could refuse an invitation to a bonfire in the country? Off we go, toting our hot dogs, s’mores makings and camping chairs. The huge firepit sits in the middle of a deep green field surrounded by towering trees. Out in the west, the lowering sunlight slants through the grass, transforming it to glowing emerald. Perched on the edge of the horizon, the sun is just getting ready to drop out of sight.
Frends gather around the bonfire as huge craggy logs catch and crackle. The usual “Smoke follows beauty” jokes start up. We catch up on the last week, sharing joys, aches and worries. A few quick prayers go up into a pale blue umbella sky. The hot dogs begin to add their smoky sizzle to the bonfire’s nostalgic aroma.
Down the sun drops below the horizon, and there it is, the first “evening star”, Venus. As we munch deliciously overdone hot dogs and chat, the sky slowly fills with color. Shades of rosy pink and warm orange intensify the background blues and tinges of apple green here and there. Who spilled this perfect paintbox? Little by little, as the mystery of night falls around us, the stars above come out of hiding and peek down. The slightest chill creeps into the air and we move our chairs closer into the warmth of the fire and each other. The stories begin as we munch those s’mores. We laugh, we remember, we share our lives. Who cares if the marshmallows are a bit black?
Something in me wishes that we could stay out here all night.