Fire on the mountain, lightening ooga aahgah oooooo!

First off - Suburb Sanity had an idea for the book give-a-way contest...if you would rather post your "entry" - the 200 words or fewer (and I know that's really "micro-fiction" - but, it's a practice in getting started, in drawing out an idea or a "caption" if you will, and keeping things short and tight enough for everyone's busy schedules!) - on your blog and then link it in the comments section, I will accept that. If you've already written yours, feel free to still do that if you wish. Just write it as a blog post on your blog, come to the comments here and tell me you've posted the entry and then put the link that leads back to the entry. Of course, you may also just post it in the comments section here just as before!

Now, you can stop here and go on to your Good Day, or read a little something I wrote on the YOG one day. I am off to walk and then do some pilates or yoga or some other health-wise bladdity doo doo.

Somewhere, someplace far away or not so far away, someone named or never named, cocked their head, raised high their arm and with a quick descending pound, struck a flint they had no idea was a flint, and created a spark. The spark was interesting, so they did it again and again, watched as the light bounced off the rock. Maybe they laughed, maybe they ran to get their friends and family to watch, maybe they were afraid and thought some god played a trick on them. Whatever happened in this long long ago, someone someplace named or unnamed created a spark that would then create a controlled fire. I want to thank them for it. They will never know my thanks, never know that what they created out of earth’s humble offerings would change the way human’s light their spaces, prepare their food, and create warmth. I am imagining there was no fanfare, and I am certain there were no research grants, there was no name written in history books, nothing to mark that day the spark created what human would come to both appreciate…without the fear of fire’s Other Side.

I can imagine before these long ago people created the spark they knew as good fire, they may have known of the big fire that swelled and grew out of control—lightening strikes a tree in a forest and the trees burn, one after another…big fire was not seen as a help to human, but instead something to be feared. A fiery hot god breathing smoke as it ate its way through anything in its path.
But that day of the sparkling flint arcing from the pounding of rock was a controlled event, something the human did from his or her own hand. From those humble beginnings, I am sitting in front of my fire, with a lemongrass candle burning on the counter, the kettle on to boil for tea. If my lights go out in our high windy day on the mountain, I’ll light a lantern for light. I will remain snug in my little log house, warm and safe and happy with my controlled fires. It’s difficult to name gratitude for something I knew can also create such pain, but all the same, I stare into the fire and am calmed.

(google image from cartoonstock.com)