Plates were empty, sunlight softening, the air cooling quickly with a crisp edge beckoning two eager big boys outdoors with their daddy. Excitement bubbled over making their hands clumsy as they tried to put their shoes on in a hurry. Owen and I watched from the window as the three of them walked to the back of the yard. I couldn't hear their exchange of words but enjoyed watching their body language interacting; a father and his sons united with a joint task.
Together they searched the yard for twigs and sticks and with daddy's guidance placed them carefully into the fire pit. A pile began to grow, the smaller twigs overlapping creating a kaleidoscope of shapes. Surrounding the web of kindling were the larger logs; cradling their more fragile existence.
Little hands mixing with big hands. A father teaching, guiding, protecting. Sons listening, learning and watching. All three anticipating the first spark.
At last, a small flame, delicately glowed. It cautiously grew before them. Eventually, the flames stretched, exerting boldly into the dusk. Smoke danced skyward then vanished against the first stars beginning to dot Earth's ceiling. A sense of accomplishment enveloped the boys.
I tried to freeze the scene in my mind. My heart filled with sentiment. Ryan is preparing to deploy. We haven't told the boys yet. My eyes welled at the thought of how they will miss daddy. My chest grew heavy at the thought of daddy missing his boys and these tender moments discovered in the art of simplicity.
Owen and I went out with a basket of fixings for smores. We roasted marshmallows; watching the power of the fire transform the marshmallows; paralleling the power of our togetherness transforming our family. How quiet moments of being together soften our edges.
We sang some songs, talked and snuggled around the fire. By now, darkness had overcome the light. Except for the fire. Our fire burning bright against the night sky. The boys were getting tired. The good kind of tired from a family day spent almost entirely outdoors.
After putting the boys to bed, Ryan and I returned to our flame. Huddled together for warmth we talked under a blanket of stars. Memories, thoughts, plans slipping off our tongues, spilling into the night. A moment. Our moment. It's tenderness guarded by the darkness of night, our hearts ablaze.
