A post from Heather on Facebook reminded me of all the fires I've been a part of in my life. Most of them I've set myself. LOL. Some, like when we lived at Spring Knob I was maybe six years old and "manning" a fire rake to make fire breaks during the fire season.
When I was around eight I set fire to the sage (sedge?) grass by my cousin Stanley's house and put it out and repeated until I could not put it out and his dad came out and managed to stop it before I burned the whole hillside down.
When I was around ten or eleven and we lived in the big, white house with the concrete cellar in back I'd pour the lawnmower gas on the floor and throw matches in it. I loved fires then and I love them now. The flames are so beautiful. The heat is so enticing. The colors are like flowers and the aroma of burning wood and/or leaves still takes me back to my younger days.
I suppose my love of fires may have been genetic as when we moved back to Nat's Creek, when snows came my dad and I would travel the hill tops and set fire to all the leaves and wood piled up beneath the rock cliffs. Those rocks and cliffs are now, sadly, gone. Victims of strip mining for coal in my childhood hills.
I still love fires. If the world ends in fire and smoke I want to be around to see it!!!
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