Dancing flames rise into the night. The sting of smoke is smothered and sucked into that dark expanse. Stars peek out from a mist of lace that spreads across the bottomless ceiling. The snow-covered ground reflects the light of a million suns that have come and gone in liquid notes of coral and gold. Coal black ashes rimmed in bright ruby stir to rise and die a hissing death on frozen planes.
A gust of wind feeds a bloom of incandescence that sends our shadows swimming across the ground to drown in white crested drifts as the blaze fades. Bowering pines grumble under the weight of cold and creak and strain as needle-clad arms seek light and warmth.
The sweet smell of burning wood rises and spreads through the fields and down to the road. Wherever it travels it takes a key to countless memories that wait only on serendipity and happenstance to open hearts and minds closed by distance and time.