A good fire in the hearth on a cold, wet, Winter's day.
I have a bit of a thing about the element of fire in general. Perhaps I was a pyromaniac in my last life - tis possible. I find that just having a fire in the hearth makes me feel somehow more positive about everything. Like a cat, I gravitate as close to it as I can get without getting paws burnt or whiskers singed. I long to simply curl up and stare into its dancing orange flames until I am absorbed. In my post, The Stillness We Seek I have talked about a deep spiritual experience that occurred while fire gazing. I love that if you look hard enough you can just make out the dancing Salamanders, leaping lightly from log to log in search of more flame to consume. I (figuratively) want to be consumed by it too. Like the Phoenix, I long to be reborn from the ashes, cleansed and renewed.
Can you see the Phoenix in the flames?
My favourite evening is one in front of the fire with a good book, a cheeky glass of Merlot and some choccy.
*Note to the Sod's Law Fairy - I DO NOT want to be caught in a fire, have my house burn down or otherwise be involved in any kind of unwanted fire shennanigans!