Spirit in the World

Friday night. Last night at home for the youngest college boy. My wife cooked dinner. No TV or music on. For a friday night that was unusual. After dinner she asked for a fire. I’d prepared the wood earlier and it  roared to life in seconds. I’d stoked it with lots of twigs. The logs really need another year before they’re seasoned and they need intense heat to catch. The extra kindling worked and in a few minutes the fire settled down for a long, mellow burn. The three of us sat there together in silence, reading books.  The only sounds were the  sizzle and pop of the modest fire and the intermittent, low rumble of the furnace.

I’m just starting The Last Child in the Woods. As I put my feet up on the hearth, I realized that though moments like this were available almost any night, I’d never had one quite like it. Suddenly, we were living together in a cabin in the woods.