now, i'm very well aware that the start of the new year was over three months ago, but really, when you think about it, isn't that a bizarre time to have a "new year". it's right in the dead of winter. every thing's cold, grey, dark...and cold.
what brought me to this conclusion was driving past a prairie fire late the other night, which is always a sign in kansas that spring is here. what an impressive and powerful image of clearing the old to make way for the new. now i don't know much about maintaining a prairies, since i've never owned one, but i do know that the general idea is that it helps clear the old grass and shrubs to allow newer and healthier grass to take it's place.
driving around late that night, a number of fires could be seen in the distance. seeing one relatively close, i followed a dirt road until i came across it. i got out and sat on the hood of the car and watched it with the same thoughtful look one would have staring into a bonfire. i sat there thinking about life, pondering, wondering, analyzing my place in in this crazy world.....you, know all standard bonfire thoughts....air supply may have been playing softly in the background....i'm not sure....but i digress. the only downside i noticed after getting back into the car was no that the interior smelled like a koa campsite. but that was nothing a little window-down driving couldn't fix.
i suddenly have a craving for some smores...
5 comments:
Abi and I were Just talking about field burning in KS/MO. It made me a little homesick, but this blog hit the spot, Eric.
i can't say that i feel as homesick as beth whilst admiring these wonderful pictures, but my mom did tell me today that it snowed yesterday in kc and it's supposed to be 70 on tuesday. now THAT'S the kind of wacky shit that i miss about the midwest.
also, the word verification key for this comment is 'peowefuf.' for about two milliseconds i thought it actually read 'beowolf.' that is all.
i miss the rolling prairie. and prairie fires.
i love your flamin' ways, easy
I withdrew yet farther into my shell, and endeavored to keep a bright fire both within my house and within my breast...The next winter I used a small cooking-stove for economy, since I did not own the forest; but it did not keep fire so well as the open fireplace. Cooking was then, for the most part, no longer a poetic, but merely a chemic process. It will soon be forgotten, in these days of stoves, that we used to roast potatoes in the ashes, after the Indian fashion. The stove not only took up room and scented the house, but it concealed the fire, and I felt as if I had lost a companion. You can always see a face in the fire. The laborer, looking into it at evening, purifies his thoughts of the dross and earthiness which they have accumulated during the day...Thoreau from Walden.
Eric - I stumbled across your blog yesterday and I love this entry. My thoughts turned to Thoreau as I wish that I could tell him that our televisions have become our winter fires. There is nothing quite like driving in Kansas and seeing such beauty as a prairie fire at night. -Lisa (spizarx@gmail.com)
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