We have a good functioning garbage collection service in Svångemåla but from time to time I have to make a small bonfire to get rid of garbage, grass, old leaves, branches etc. that I cannot put in the dustbin.
It is has been too dry to do that since I came back to Svångemåla so I was happy, for once, when I heard the rain early in the morning and could start my fire in the light drizzle without being afraid of it spreading.
While standing there, looking into the flames I started to philosophize why so many of us, if not all, are fascinated by just staring in to a fire. Is it some deep down feelings of safety or survival that we developed during the stone age when a fire meant warm food and protection against wild animals and the cold? Or is it because we feel powerful when we can control something that is often a destroyer and a serious enemy? Or is it simply the ever-changing “picture” the flames paint?
When standing at the fire I was also reminded of the strength smells can have on ones memory. It is nothing that brings me back to Africa as much as the smell of burning grass and leaves. Finally I started to wonder why the wind ALWAYS changes so that you have the smoke directly into your face?
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