I’m a recovering pyromaniac. And by recovering, I mean I have limited access to things to burn and when I do burn them, I do it in a controlled way — like on the grill. But back in the day, I really loved fire. Candles, campfires, fires in the fireplace… Burn, baby, burn. When we were in elementary school, my brother and I would sneak off to the woods behind our house and light fires with extra wood left behind from the ongoing construction at our house. That story never fails to give my mother the chills to this day. I can’t imagine why. Fire. Kids. Home construction. What could go wrong?
The love of fire combined with years of official fire building at camps across the Southeast make me a champion fire builder. I know how to gather a combination of twigs, kindling, and bigger logs. I understand the design and assembly required to set a proper fire. I’ve build fire using only two matches. I’ve built fires with ten campers watching. I’m good.
So imagine my dismay when confronted with an unskilled fire builder responsible for the closing campfire at this weekend’s retreat. Not only did she not have the right materials to get it started (not enough twigs or kindling, in my opinion), but she also really did not want any help. So several of us sat back, anxiously watching her efforts to get a significant bonfire started with a tiny handful of twigs and three huge logs propped above them in a triangle. I thought we were going to be there all night. At times, I had to physically restrain myself from jumping in to save the day.
And you know what happened? It burned just fine. Turns out, there may be more than one good way to build a fire and this particular fire didn’t require my expertise. Go figure! Not sure that’s very inspiring, but it did make me wonder what else would get along just fine in the world without my two cents.
Boonedoggler 