Dear Bonfires
I miss you.
It’s been almost a year since I’ve been able to sit around your warmth. I miss looking into your embers, smelling the wood-burning, and deep conversations with family and friends. I miss the way you calm me.
I grew up in a city town, but I found you in my second home, a campground in Erie called Sara’s Campground. It was right at the beginning of the Peninsula. Summer days were spent swimming, eating grilled cheese cooked on griddles, and soaking up time with my grandparents. Every clear night ended with both you and a brilliant sunset. You were the symbol of the end of a perfect day and I fell in love with you early on.
When the summer trailer was sold, I saw you less. I missed your warmth. However, I looked forward to Easter morning services while the “He is Risen” message was preached while we were gathered around you right before sunset. I basked in your warmth and the way you delicately lit the faces of those around me. Some of them I had known for years, others were new acquaintances to be made.
The horror stories told around you at Girl Scout outings while I was growing up. Pre-teens gathered around the fire in jeans and sweaters was tradition. It birthed the enjoyment of telling tales and creating something out of nothing. It would lay the ground for my later obsessions with haunted places, horror movies, and dark clothing. It began around you, this part of me that I would never replace. The darker side and love of storytelling.
You were better than fireworks over the Fourth of July as you were lit to cook hot dogs after church services at the beginning of July. I counted the days until Erie weekends where you marked the end of each Discover Presque day.
The taste of marshmallows warmed by you, always perfectly toasted and never burnt. I loved the gooiness.
I miss the reflective practice of watching you, feeling every part of my mind and body relax. It was freedom and peace, especially when you were combined with the sound of waves crashing. It was simplicity at its finest. Cheap entertainment, but I loved how you let me dream as I stared into your light.
You were an unexpected but welcome part of my wedding night. It was a Harvest/Halloween party at church. When I saw the word bonfire, I longed to be reunited with you. Sharing one of my first memories as a married woman with you is something I would never regret or change.
Oh, and the scent I’m most likely to stock up on with candles? It’s you. I wait all year for the annual candle sales so I can smell you. You give me creative energy. I’m grateful for small pieces of you around me, but I miss the actual presence of you.
I’m grateful for everything you’ve brought into my life, all our memories and I can’t wait to see you again this summer.
Love,
One Who is Grateful for You
