Memories in the Wind

My entire neighborhood is filled with the scent of woodsmoke this evening. As I walked along I breathed the heavy air in through my mouth and nostrils. It smelled like contentment and nostalgia. With every breath I took I recalled my other memories around woodfires.

Camping trips of my childhood, monumental bonfires, fires started in the snow, fires started in the sun, tiny dwindling pires, the fireplace in my home during a power outage or cold winter night, camp -fire songs at camp, the great Kelowna fires a few years back- the red glare of the Okanagan as the sweet yet bitter air blew towards us, camping trips of my later years, adventures, happiness, sadness, undescribable moments, wine, whisky, beer, song, tree fights, leaping over the fire, dancing around the fire, dancing in the fire, meeting a weasel in the wee hours of the morning, climbing mountains off the beaten path, dark and furtive conversations, brooding over a fire-cooked meal- that's not dirt you whiney bastard that's seasoning, battles with indubiatable squirrels, cigars, harmonicas, guitars, terrible terrible burns, weepy eyes from a friendly smoke stream, the red glow on the tent as the fire makes a final attempt at life although it knows that it has been extinguished, ghosts, stories, true, false, our own, someone elses, beaches, law enforcing park rangers, all imagined? perhaps, maybe not...

These are the memories that came to me this evening as I breathed in that sweet wood smoke scent. My memories carried in the air unlocked by a fire that I have never seen, flames which I have not warmed my hands on and smoke that has not stung my eyes. My life suspended in the wind, waiting to come back to me...