When I arrive at a campspot, I look for a fireplace. Fire is like a piece of old furniture at your home. It's a familiar element that doesn't change, wherever you go. It behaves and looks a certain way. Once you have it going, and the daylight goes away, all you see is the fire and each others faces. Darkness becomes like a wall around it. And you arrive at the same place, same site everywhere, every night. Camping gives me time after a days ride. Time to absorb everything I had seen thru the day, remembering the day, relocating everything I collected on the road. And fire brings that necessary silence. Most of us can't stand silence. It feels wrong. We break it with words and meanings. But fire utters just enough to keep us listening. It eases us to silence. After a night like this, one has very little left ...Read More
