Margo Roby has us thinking about fire – mostly in terror at a runaway fire in the open. I’m re-blogging one of my old favourites, in honour of our new woodburning stove, which is such a comfort.
Kindling
A friendly word
for the start of warmth.
Splinters, shavings, chips of oak,
chopped sticks and kinked twigs
then serious timber, a handspan thick.
The catalyst, a fizz of sulphur,
prelude to atavistic pleasure
in spits, sparks, flames,
and quietly glowing cinders.
Vivinfrance's Blog 
I can feel the warmth in the words as well as the picture, Viv 🙂
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Thanks for the new word… atavistic.
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I want a stove like that! 🙂
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It is a simple, unsophisticated one that was installed in a day in our chimneyless home.
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atavistic….. There’s a fiery word for familiar warmth! Sometimes when I build a fire – and look into it – I can see one that I shared many years ago as a child with my parents and neighbors while camping on the Little Miami River – the popping of green wood bursting in the flames – the smell of smoke so soothing – so wonderful – the chatter of adults talking and laughing… seven children chasing around the campsite – telling tales of werewolves in the wood and spiders in the old wooden outhouse…. The smell of the old musty cot and sleeping bag. Some things are meant to be atavistic, don’t you think? I’m so glad that they can be. What a wonderful bag of memories you’ve jostled for me with this lovely poem. Thank you
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Ah, campfires: a whole nother pleasure! https://vivinfrance.wordpress.com/2014/12/29/campfires-burning-2/ which you’ve already commented on.
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What a quaint little stove, Viv!! Tea by that warm beauty would be bliss indeed! Love your descriptions and your facet of fire…thank you!
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It’s not quite so great when it’s been chewed up all over the rug! My youngest dog has taken to helping herself from the kindling box and splitting it up into smaller pieces. Perhaps she thinks she’s helping 😦
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Lovely, ViV! My mother had a fireplace. I shall miss it at Christmases. We have a gas one. It’s not the same by half.
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