- Native American Ceremonies

There's an old cast-iron wood stove on the corner of the deck overlooking
the lake. It used to heat this cabin. Now it's been replaced by a newer,
more efficient model. So it's become a fire pit we sit in front of on long,
cool summer nights, or in the more clement evenings of winter and fall.

Like a lot of things about this place, it bears the stamp of rusticity.
There's a simpler virtue to that old stove. It's molded with curves and
long sloping angles and its facade resembles a tribal face, Easter Island
or African. When it's opened and the fire burns within it, the flame is
aired by the damper and burns brighter, hotter, because of it.

To sit there in the hushed air of evening is to be transported. Fire is
funny that way. It connects us to a primeval part of our being and the
conversation always lowers, stops sometimes, and we stare into it, watching
the flames flicker and dance.