Fireplaces and Fire Places

Trout Whisperer posted on November 25, 2009 22:29 :: 2675 Views

I can’t look at a tree and find a tattered leaf remains. The ground is dried brown grass. Cattails so noisy in the breeze can’t decide on anything more exciting than beige or tan. For color the brightest thing in the woods is the whiteness of birch trees or what used to be evergreens now thinned of any pine needle not meant to over winter.

Clouds are gray sullen and daily from somewhere above me and the bluish tinted of months ago, well it packed itself in to try and stay warm shutting off the sun, my golden rays have been put away for winter. Mother Nature and old man winter are gonna go at it again, and again, and again.

Most, if not all of the colors we get to see in the woodlands have been washed away with heavy fall rains. Frosts, each waking claim more of the yard. It’s dark in the morning to long and dark again at night far too early. So much of the heavens in silvered star chips held aloft in a surrounding blackness are not enough in contrast to hold my gaze for long on cold nights. I get inside quicker.

I ditch my jacket and head for the hearth. Matches get struck, the kindling gives way, and the fire comes forth. With the fireplace blazing its oranges, yellows, and hues of blue, in my own house, I’m suddenly warmed by the wood and its colors inside my home.

The fire brightens my mind. It pushes back the length of this night that must pass into yet another cold day. I watch the smoke float above the flames and shoot up the chimney. Adding small pine cones, Sparks pop. Pieces of Birch bark tucked in flare up and fills my nose with fragrance. As the logs burn I move the ashes and baste the coals. I’m playing with fire, my fire.

No other lights on in the room. Flickering flames bounce about the walls soundlessly. With a good book and a tall glass of something almost as heart warming as the fire I nestle in next to my snoring dog.

When I wake up the fire has completely died down. Somewhere in this night and room I am, but yet again the color is gone. Now the dog is not happy about me going to bed. I get up out of the recliner and she heads for the bedroom, and with four feet you’d think it would be easier for her. Once I’m under the down covers even with the bed room lights out she walks her methodical three circles, and then lies down. I close my eyes to the final darkness this day can offer.

The trout whisperer

Inside the Mind of a Guide

Living the Dream in God's Country - Superior National Forest

Join author, professional guide, and master storyteller, Karl "Trout Whisperer" Seckinger, as he takes you on a 20 year, mystical journey into the Superior National Forest.

On this CD, Trout Whisperer's unique manner of storytelling, and digital sound effects, will transport you on a journey that will place you in the heart of the 'super natural forest' that is known as the Superior National Forest.