September 4 Prompt

Good morning writers.
“When we lived closer to fire, when our lives depended upon the careful tending of the hearth, we had before us a symbol of the need for nourishment that lay deep in our souls.”
–Anne Scott

One of my chores at a young person was to not only take out the trash but to burn it when the incinerator became full. I hated the burning part. When I was much younger I remember standing at our living room window and watching Mr. Baldy burn. I could barley see over the window sill but I remember the flames jumping and dancing over the mountain. It seemed that every year or so, some dumb person with a camp fire would set fire to the mountain. I didn’t like fire. I saw it too many times and it always seemed that our house would be next as the flames came over the ridge.
When I was about 7 or 8 I was trained in how to light the fire for the trash. There was a way to hold the match and strike it. Fingers too close to the match head for me. Then wait just a moment to make sure it was burning and then place it on a piece of paper. If the fire didn’t catch I had to light it again. I hated the fact that I was “playing” with the same thing that would burn our Mt. Baldy and threaten so many lives. But it was one of my jobs so I tried to do it without getting too involved. I’d strike the match and not wait. It was one fluid motion. Lighting the match and letting it go, in hopes it would land on the spot that would catch fire. Some days I’d go through a whole book of matches just to get one to catch. The act of throwing the match many times would put the fire out and I’d have to throw the match slower or hesitate a little longer to make sure the match was lit. I was under so much stress that my stomach would ball up and I’d sometimes loose my breakfast after the chore.
I still don’t care much for fire. I do have a overly healthy respect for fire. And every time there is a story on the news about the “fires of summer” I worry about all the people and the land that will take so long to recover.

If you have any memories of fire write about those. Maybe a personal story or belief about fire.
Hope you all have a good week. It will be shorter so enjoy.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. I too, remember watching what seemed like the annual Mt. Baldy burn and watching the ashes settle like snow on the streets, cars, and roofs of our community.

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