The fire pit that sat in our yard for a good part of the last decade was stolen last night. And while it's true it didn't get used a whole lot, when it served its purpose, it was special.
I'm open to being labeled overly sentimental about a black, beaten 30 year old fire pit but I get sad to look out the window and see the vacant spot it occupied for many years in the yard.
More than that, I remember the laughs,the lies, the memories, the stories and the friendship we shared sitting around that fire and watching the sparks, the royal orange flame , avoiding its smoke but reveling in its warmth.
I remember friends now passed who cozied up with us by that old black Weber and threw some wood on it to contribute to the sense of community. I remember a friend searching the alley for wood that would keep our fire lit and our evening longer. There was that time he found treasure...discarded pieces of furniture ..and we all laughed to see an old chair dismembered and swallowed up by the beautiful blaze.
There was the Halloween where we moved the heavy black pit to the front of the house to keep us warm as we served trick or treaters candy and sipped our wine. It would've been too chilly to do that without our friendly fire.
Firekeepers were we as one of our number would stir the embers that would keep the fire going and the gathering warm. Feel the fellowship, savor the smell.
The Memorial Days, July 4th's, Labor Days, special occasions and no occasion at all. That fire pit was our own little town square, lighting up many a night.
So when someone ventured into the yard last night and for whatever reason, decided to take that sturdy little fire pit, they also took a bunch of memories and shared experiences. And while I fully expect to get another, it won't be the one that was experienced by friends no longer here. It'll be nice, but never the same.
Yeah, it was just an old fire pit. But then again, it really was more than that and I'll miss it.
