Warmed by the Fire

In the main living area of my cottage the only heating source is a fireplace.
Unfortunately it is too large for the room’s proportions, so it’s not easy to
keep up a modest fire that does not turn the place into a sauna. A small fire
has to be fed all the time, and I only have time to do that in the evening when
I curl up on the couch with a good book, or two (or three).
Even during wintertime, my afternoons are mainly spent outside with long hikes,
working in the garden or chopping wood, and after a hot and fragrant dinner
soup it’s heaven to sit by a crackling fire. That’s my golden hour! It’s wonderful
to take in some intellectual, emotional or spiritual nutrition through interesting
books (for example Joyce Carol Oates’ “We Were the Mulvaneys”, Frédéric Lenoir’s
“L’oracle de la Luna” or Yoko Ogawa’s “The Diving Pool”) when you’re pleasantly
physically tired, mentally relaxed, and warmed by a crackling fire. Moments of
total peace.
People have called my life “monastic”, and if they mean being happy with simple
pleasures, then that’s just the word. Sometimes I just draw the little African rug
and the big cushion closer to the fireplace, and watch the fascinating dance of flames.
Mother Nature’s playful changes in shapes and colours never stop fascinating me.

The Dance of Flames

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2 Responses to Warmed by the Fire

  1. Beatrix says:

    Das klingt soooo gemütlich! ❤️??Drückerli. B.

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