We fired up our Morsø wood burning stove in the Franklin this week. Nothing like a little fire to warm the soul. The flames dancing off the walls, the soft crackling echoing around the room, the way it compels everyone to gather around, and the tending of the fire that invites you to participate. Hard to beat.
I’ve been thinking about why I prefer wood burning fires to gas. Gas is just too easy...it’s like flipping on a light. There is no deep appreciation bc there is no effort. It’s just an expectation met. You can flip it on without the intention of “let’s gather around a fire,” or really any intention at all—as an afterthought.
Having to gather the kindling, get it going, warm up the stove, and finally tend to it after it’s piping hot. There is work involved. And so it is also more satisfying. Plus, I don’t think I’ve EVER started a fire alone while others are around. For some reason, the moment someone starts to make a fire, everyone tries to pitch in—gathering the wood, stacking it just right, finding the lighter, blowing on it, adding a piece of wood as it gets going...or just putting in their two cents of how it should be done. And then there are those that just watch the process unfold. Whatever it is, it causes people to pay attention, and it brings people together. I wouldn’t trade that for easy.