Fireplaces, Firepits, and Fond Memories
I love fireplaces in their many shapes and forms. Whether they’re made of stone, brick, or surrounded by polished wood, they seem to say, “Come, sit for a while.” A fireplace is a natural focal point in any home, a gathering place for warmth, reflection, and connection. There’s a special kind of beauty that comes from gazing into the flickering flames and glowing embers. My mind often drifts and dreams as I watch them dance. Faces appear, stories unfold, and before I know it, I’m miles away in thought. It’s a meditation of sorts, quiet, grounding, and endlessly soothing.
In the summer months, the magic moves outdoors. I enjoy fires in one of many firepits, especially at our family cottage in Door County. We’ve spent countless nights gathered around the fire, wrapped in sweatshirts and laughter. Everyone enjoys making s’mores, gooey, sticky, and always a little lopsided. We sing silly songs like “Five Sharp-Toothed Buzzards Sitting in an Old Tree” and “Tarzan.” By the second verse, someone always dissolves into uncontrollable giggles. It’s pure joy, the kind of laughter that makes your stomach ache and your heart swell. Of course, there’s always the friendly reminder not to overfeed the fire, or we’ll be up half the night waiting for it to burn down.
Campfires have always held a special place in my heart. They take me back to my Girl Scout days, when the evenings were filled with stories, laughter, and songs about the rivers and lakes of our beautiful Wisconsin countryside. One summer, we had a counselor who played the guitar with such tenderness that the campfire seemed to hum along with her. She’d strum “Today” and “The Seine,” and we’d sing along. I could have listened to her sing all day long. Those were some of the sweetest memories of my teenage years, simple, heartfelt, and full of wonder.
When my own family began camping in Northern Wisconsin and at Peninsula State Park, I found myself reliving that magic. The best part of every day was the campfire, where stories, songs, and roasted marshmallows turned into lasting family memories. I remember one night when our son Matt listened to his sister Lisa tell the story of a book she loved. When we got home, he insisted on reading it himself, but later admitted he liked her version better. Moments like that are the true treasures, the ones that live quietly in our hearts forever.
These days, I have a cozy gas fireplace in my office. When it’s lit, the room transforms, the air feels softer, and even the quiet seems richer. Just the other night, my sister Sandy and I sat in my office, sharing a late dinner and a movie while the fireplace glowed beside us. Her two Springers were curled up nearby, and my Quincy slept contentedly at my feet. The fire crackled softly, the conversation flowed easily, and I thought, Life doesn’t get much better than this.
A fireplace or firepit does more than warm the air; it warms the soul. It pulls us closer to each other, invites us to slow down, and turns ordinary moments into cherished memories. Whether it’s the gentle hum of a gas flame or the crackle of a log fire under a starry sky, the magic is the same; it reminds us to pause, to connect, and to be grateful for the simple beauty of being together.
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