Solstice fire
Dec. 6th, 2019 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormThis morning I didn't feed the fire. Once a month I let it die down and stick my phone up there and take a picture of the chimney; about once every two months I clean the chimney; seems like every 2 chimney cleans I take out the ashes. Tonight I'm going for dinner with old coworkers and then staying at a friend's, my old boss'; tomorrow I clean the chimney, take out the ashes, and lay the fire that will take me into the upswing of sunlight and also into the new calendar year.
The tradition of staying awake to keep the solstice fire burning is much easier when there's a wood stove with a catalytic burner and a good damper. It becomes, instead of a once-night event, a daily practice throughout the winter with immediate and visceral consequences when it's failed: the cold comes in. My electric heat comes on and I am charged money. I need to split kindling and go through the ritual of fire-starting.
Still, I want to go through the ritual of having a relatively clean stove on solstice night. I want to know that fire can run until there's light on both sides of my workday and the light feels well and truly back. And I may shut down the breakers or at least turn out the lights on solstice; bottle booze with Tucker; light candles and listen to or make music and maybe read to each other or consult the cards or talk or pet kittens or look out the window or who really knows? There's plenty of time for all that, it's a long long night. The moon will be waning and the stars will be such a presence that they sweep away any sense of the earth as solid or meaningful.
So: clean the fire, clean the floors, pull out the snowblower. Tomorrow is solstice prep.
The tradition of staying awake to keep the solstice fire burning is much easier when there's a wood stove with a catalytic burner and a good damper. It becomes, instead of a once-night event, a daily practice throughout the winter with immediate and visceral consequences when it's failed: the cold comes in. My electric heat comes on and I am charged money. I need to split kindling and go through the ritual of fire-starting.
Still, I want to go through the ritual of having a relatively clean stove on solstice night. I want to know that fire can run until there's light on both sides of my workday and the light feels well and truly back. And I may shut down the breakers or at least turn out the lights on solstice; bottle booze with Tucker; light candles and listen to or make music and maybe read to each other or consult the cards or talk or pet kittens or look out the window or who really knows? There's plenty of time for all that, it's a long long night. The moon will be waning and the stars will be such a presence that they sweep away any sense of the earth as solid or meaningful.
So: clean the fire, clean the floors, pull out the snowblower. Tomorrow is solstice prep.
