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Everyone loves a fire pit! Ever wonder why?

Beyond returning life’s blood flow to our cold, tight fingers and toes, radiating bone-deep warmth in a crackling cadence all its own, the mesmerizingly vivid flames licking the nighttime sky, the pop and spark, the deeply penetrating “aroma of the blaze,” the roaring rhythm tugging the nooks and crannies of memory, snagging a deep-seated heart string, gradually heating our pulse from within.

There is a magnetism, a beacon kindled deep in our marrow.

What’s the draw?  Though we can’t quite place our finger on its source, its inescapable pull on our attention has a gravity all its own.  The dancing hues of red, orange, blue, yellow, and white igniting an invitation to a time just beyond our conscious recollections.

Could it be, in a shimmering flash of light, a tiny flicker instantly escapes the bonds of multicolored embers, accompanied by the homeward-bound smoke easing skyward, gently making its own chimney, reminding us of our future return to the Heavens?

Perhaps it’s because throughout human history we’ve kicked off our evenings gathered around the hearth, snug and toasty, bathed in shadows of the flammable, recalling the ups and downs of our day, the travails and successes of the hunt and gather. Face it, whether evicted from the Garden Of Eden, or roaming off the savannas of Africa…we walked and fought to get where we were going. At the end of the day, we sat by a fire, licking our wounds, making our plans.

Maybe the draw of the open flame is one of nostalgia, a homesickness, a yearning. A Rorschach of roaring fire launching a cognitive combustion, the balm to what ails us, a salve for the myriad stresses of our day, when our skin wasn’t naturally thick by choice, but forged by Fate in the days where we squared our shoulders, confronting the many assaults of chance.

Could it be that “taming the flame,” collecting the staggeringly awesome power of the Sun, corralling it in a pit, beating back the dark, is today as inescapably alluring to our spine as it was our ancestors throughout millennia, imbuing them with courage, the bravery it took to face the darkest, coldest of nights, launching the torch into the engulfing deep of the surrounding unknown. Maybe there is a connection between harnessing fear and flame, making them heel to your command?

Personally, there are no greater memories of my childhood, indelibly etched, carved or chiseled in my memory, than times spent with my family and friends around a campfire, warming our feet, telling stories—some tales much taller than others—and eating great meals.

Food prepared over an open flame is always the best, is it not? Menus born of a bed of coals leave their mark on your mind and your stomach as well.  Maybe our deepest psychologies crave charbroiled, and we don’t even know it, though our stomachs nudge us fireside.  If our tastebuds could vote, they’d surely reach “blaze” as an unanimous verdict.  No arguing the feelings, the smells, the tastes tap something in us.

All that said, surrendering to the inescapable tempo and flow of the flame, I’m proud to announce Friday Night Firelight.

Stay close for more information in the next few weeks.