The Fire
The earth is composed of many natural beauties, with several of them coming from from the elements of earth, wind, fire, or water. All of which have the power to create or destroy and all of which have the ability to perform good or evil. But of these earthly elements, fire, without a doubt, is the most compelling and the most awe inspiring as it seems to have a life, mind, spirit of its own.
As the neon yellow fire ignites at the base of the triangular tent-like figure that the logs to be burned are placed in, the flame, unknowing of the pure power that it beholds in its near future, flickers in pure innocence. Witnessing its will to survive as it slowly grows inch by inch in size is something to be embraced. Just as the newborn, headstrong flame seems to be giving up because it doesn’t yet have the needed strength and sustainability yet, an extended splinter of the blackening undermost piece of wood catches aflame and prolongs the length of the flares life. The splinter, withering away and vanishing into the air from the shock of heat that now encompasses it, reaches the point of connection to its whole. As the growing flame begins to overtake the base of the log, a winding ribbon on silky grey smoke prowls up into the air, as if trying to escape the heat itself. It creates a distinct thick, intoxicating aroma of burning wood and new ashes.
The flame is now building up the necessary confidence that it must possess in order to survive. It begins to realize and utilize the potential that it has within itself and that it can do to the world around it. Suddenly, leaps of faith are being taken from one log to the next, prancing around without a single care. The once tiny flame has now multiplied in size exponentially and is beginning to examine the capabilities of a roaring and dangerous fire. No longer is only a single flame burning, but an entire colony of individual sparks, ranging in colors from red to orange to yellow, that are all hoping to become something even more powerful than what they currently are. Each of them searching for the microscopic molecules of oxygen that leisurely float within the air that are vital to their survival.
The smoke from the old, dry stump, which has previously released a thin floating ribbon, has now morphed into a deep grey, thick, swirling cloud. It lingers over the fire as if it were a protector, the Lord Almighty himself, watching over to detect its every last move, solely to protect the surroundings from any potential danger. The intense and stimulating smell of the smoke captures all attention. And suddenly all of the years of the aged, but now burning, stump are now being taken in, breath by breath.
The fire has now grown into a monster. Flames, like fireworks, shooting up, left, and right without any warning, are living long enough only to burst at its maximum peak and dissipate in the air. Every piece of timber is now ablaze; every piece begins to slowly decay at the intense and unbearable heat of the exceptionally scorching fire. The fire is radiating such a profound heat that nothing is able to get within a defined circumference without harm. It is now at its pinnacle of its life.
The vitality of the inferno is unlike any other as it performs a magnificent samba, as if to show off its own superiority. The fire is one as it joins together to step one foot at a time, complete one move at a time, and ultimately spin around the dance floor all night long as if to just keep enough energy alive to light up the night. The crickets applause in the background and the stars observe from above, showing their appreciation and delight to the breathtaking wonder and talent before them. They dance as if to show something, as if to prove something.