Midnight Light

On a clear, cold night in Maine, I heard the deep voice of my father asking me to make a fire. He wanted me to show him that I could make a fire on my own. No kindling to start it. I saw a paper birch in the distance near the lake. I chose to start my fire with the birch bark because it catches on fire fast. As I got closer to the lake I heard a moose in the water splashing around like I did when I was little. I would get in the water and go crazy, splashing my arms. I slowly peeled away the flaky birch bark and walked back over to my dad sitting at the fire pit. I tore the bark into small strips with my hands. He handed me a lighter and I made a little tipi with the bigger sticks to make a small house for the baby fire I would soon make. I carefully lit the little shards of birch bark and I watched the fire flicker. I added small twigs trying not to kill the infant fire. It slowly grew until I could taste the bitter smoke. I sat back with my dad as I watched my baby fire grow and warm my legs.

The light brightened up the surrounding grass and tents. I laid my head back and looked at the sky. The stars looked an arm's length away, as if I was closer to the sky. The stars glowed and led the way to the cabin, lake, and tents. The crackling sound of the wood catching fire made me smile as if I was the only one there. I heard a voice say “well done” and relief flowed over me when I saw a smile from my father. My eyes slowly closed. I drifted into my mind and I fell asleep by my bright fire slowly turning to coals.