February 8, 2024
It was a little after 4 AM, and the vibration of the espresso machine made small ripples in the dark brown liquid filling the bottom of my glass cup. Minutes later, I was on the couch, fighting dogs off, lest they steal my foamed milk, a treat they love, and expect. This morning, I would take an hour to write on my tablet, the clacking of keys resonating as I sat at the dining room table. It was time to purge my brain.
Later, I left the house, heading for a small gas station called Papa Jack’s. While technically in the city of Kenly, the small store is near the Buckhorn Reservoir in Sims. They always have a nice supply of bait and tackle. Today, I purchased a small package of hooks and some crimp-on lead weights. They sell earthworms at the location, but I opted to use my own, having gone into my shed earlier and making a withdrawal from one of my worm bins I used for vermicomposting.
When I arrived at the reservoir, it was empty. The weather on water usually felt colder during the winter months, but surprisingly, the sun warmed the area, making it feel like an early spring day. The water looked smooth, but its color was a murky brown from the stirred sediment under the surface. Looking up from the water at a distance, however, the lake’s skin looked blue as it reflected the clear, open sky.
There is something exciting about the first cast. Standing at the end of the pier, I skewered a worm on my hook, thanking it for its service, opened the bale, and whipped the rod sharply. A high-pitched whistle from the thin rod cutting the air sounded, and the line shot out, looking like a spider web flying toward the horizon. The weight and hook splashed when it hit the water about thirty yards away. I was fishing.
The fishing was slow, but I was enjoying my time at the reservoir. It was a beautiful day, and I raised my face toward the sun, closing my eyes, feeling its warmth. Sunlight is good for the disposition, especially at this time of year. In the distance, near the other side of the reservoir, white seagulls circled, occasionally skimming the water or diving to catch prey. When one seagull spotted prey, it sang out, which prompted the other seagulls to follow. I wondered if the bird was calling his friends over or if it was just excited to hunt and eat. My time on the water was short, but it rejuvenated me. I decided I would light the fire pit tonight and maybe smoke some pork ribs. It was a workday, but I was making off-duty plans.
After work, I gathered firewood, splitting logs into smaller pieces for kindling. I also gathered several dead pine branches to add to the fire pit. The weather had been dry and the fire lit quickly. Before I knew it, the fire raged while I sat and stared at it. The Traeger Grill had already been smoking for an hour and I would leave it to smoke for another hour before increasing the heat, letting the meat slowly cook while I sat at the fire sipping a cold Man of Law IPA.
My wife called me on FaceTime, and I placed my phone on a small table across from where I sat, the fire burning between us. She was eating and sipping a beer, too. We talked for a long time, and it felt like she was there with me, sitting at the fire. After a long chat full of laughter, we hung up. I continued the party, switching out dogs from time to time. Sitting outdoors in front of a fire is one of the most relaxing experiences. There must be something in our DNA that makes a camp fire feel natural. It was relaxing, warm, and an integral part of how we developed into modern human beings. Almost every cognitive capability resulted from changing our diet from raw to cooked foods, something that required fire.
Yesterday, I thought about how horses and deer were so sensitive that they could sense things about you that you didn’t know about yourself. This evening, I chuckled, because my wife seemed to be just as sensitive toward me. She gifted me the Solo Stove, specifically to use while she was gone for this month, knowing it would keep me happy and sane. She was right. My time outside reminded me of how lucky I was and I felt a little overcome with gratitude for all the great things I had in my life. In short, things were the best they had ever been.
I sat in front of the fire for a few hours. Although the temperature outside was in the forties, the fire’s heat was intense. My hoodie felt hot to the touch, and I had to distance myself from the pit every so often to stay cool. When the pork ribs were finished, I removed them from the grill and allowed the fire pit to burn out. Kilo, Bodhi, Koda, Axel, and I feasted, and we all went to bed with full stomachs. Tomorrow was Friday; the weekend was knocking on the door.