The other morning when I was rollerblading through the woods, the most horrid smell entered my nose. Like burnt hair or, I don’t even know what, it was just bad. Which was when I realized that a good portion of the woods and brush beside the path had been incinerated. About a mile long, there was a charred patch about 20 feet deep. And then it stopped.
When I turned the corner, so that I had a side view of the burnt patch, I looked for some sort of clue as to how the fire had been contained. I assumed that I’d see a wall of sand…or steel or something.
But there was just the thinnest sandy dirt path. In most places, it was only a few inches wide – grass and brush seconds away on the other side.
And I thought, is that all it took to stop that fire’s burning and raging and all consuming flames?
Huh. Wimpy fire.
Your fire’s bolder and brighter than that, right?
Image credit: Sister72
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I know that smell. When I was in college, some serious wildfires spread through a couple neighborhoods near our dorms. We stood outside watching for a while, as big fancy houses turned to ash.
We had to leave, though, when the fire jumped across a four-lane road to spread in our direction.
I’ve been puny at times, but these days, I’m on fire like that.
.-= Aaron Pogue´s last blog ..How to Choose Your Writing Software (Part 2) =-.
By the photo, I thought FOR SURE you were going to write about how you had a UTI or something.
My fire isn’t burning yet today, but, once I light it, my entire neighborhood is going to take notice.
.-= Alisa Bowman´s last blog ..How to Get Along with an Introverted Spouse =-.
When I lived in central Virginia the hillside above our house caught fire. It was an all volunteer fire department and as they rumbled up the hill folks from the neighborhood were jumping on to help extinguish the blaze.
I had never been on a firefighting crew before but was taken under the wing of a more experienced hand and we worked closely together to contain the fire. At one point the wind picked up causing my partner, aware of the danger, to shove me behind a large rock and crouch next to me as the flames, fanned by the wind, rushed past.
I learned then it is not merely the intensity of the fire that matters but the strength of the wind behind it as well.
.-= Siddhartha´s last blog ..Perceptions and Leadership Development =-.
My fire is burning but small and controlled…I have seen fire stopped by a small amount of wet sand and I have seen one that I couldn’t put out that’s what I am working on.
.-= Justin Matthews´s last blog ..A list of People to Kill… =-.
And then there are those of us who cook on electric ranges, where there is “all heat and no flame.” The burning intensity of an open flame is what drives a writer to brilliance. I’ve never seen anyone sit for hours and stare at an electric range…even when it is turned on to “high.” It is the flame which is mesmerizing and draws one deep into a story.
Hate hate hate that smell. Tears you up from sinus to stomach.
Controlled burns aren’t common here but backyard burning is. County folks can toss whatever in a barrel or a pit and light it up. Makes for some awful afternoons where keeping the house closed is your only option.
.-= Todd Jordan´s last blog ..31 Days of iPad Day 17 =-.
My fire is on fire baby!
.-= Andi´s last blog ..French Friday – French by Heart =-.
Don’t I know it!