Noun: FEER-ye-brak (old English)
Distinct, sharp crackling or breaking sound made by a fire
Dim speckles of light fought to be seen among the clouds that swirled in the black empty sky. Smoke rose from a spot of dirt circled by stone in the middle of a clearing lined of pine and birch trees. It twisted as high as it could and blended with the graying clouds above.
Even from a distance away, sounds could be heard. A rhythm played soft, yet sharp through the leaves. It grew louder with each step and was clear as day where the dirt and brush met grass.
The noise, from a pile of logs still damp from the previous day rainfall, held comfort among many. It meant there was a chance to sit and relax, to escape from a reality that was much louder and much busier. It was a time to converse and teach and learn, to laugh and smile and joke. It was a time to be cherished and to never be taken for granted.
Flames danced as the centerpiece, casting shadows on the faces that sat around it. The base of the fire turned colors of teal and violet from old copper wire strategically placed between the wood. The conversations continued as wildly as the flames and only died down as the coals became ash.
But the memories, the memories remained for a lifetime and more, a centerpiece in the heart, just as the fire burned.
Fires are my JAM— in bonfire or fireplace form, they all good. It’s also the inspiration of one of my tattoos because the meaning for me is essentially the love and feeling of content that comes with sitting around a fire with friends and family. And thinking of that really helps with you’re feeling down in the dumps!
Thank you for reading!