Phoenix in the Fire

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Phoenix Fire

There is something immediately calming to me about building a log fire in our house.

I always look into the fire to see what shapes it will produce, sometimes I have seen words upon logs as they burn and sometimes there are objects which are plain to see. others you may have to look more closely for.

Here is the second night’s fire after we arrived.  I have named it my Phoenix Fire. As I placed the funny shaped log upon the fire, it began to burn and as it burned the fire curled the fronds of bark around it as though wings in flight.  It was beautiful. I did not want to leave it’s warmth.  As the fire roared from it’s mouth and all around it warming the room and my face. It was as though it had something to teach me. That underneath it all, there is still room to grow and return.  Another promise of Hope perhaps.  It would appear to be a signal that I am not done here yet.  Rising again from the embers. Stronger one can hope.

The Daily Post – Promises

The Folks Who Live on the Hill

Some years ago, when we came to this place,
You should have seen the look on my face.
As we drove through the countryside to see,
Where our new adventure would be.
I’d never been to that country before,
Knew it existed in old folklore.
Roads twisted and turned as we travelled,
As our lengthy journey unravelled.

We asked around for directions, we tried
As we may to find it, but the house it would hide.
Lost to the world, our heaven sent,
Derelict, forgotten to it’s detriment.
Then we turned the corner and climbed the hill,
I couldn’t disguise my wonder and thrill.
On arriving I cried, “What have we done?”
Soon realised that it had just begun.
A sight opened up before my eyes,
A place there before us started to rise.
We reached the top and stared in awe,
We had our work cut out here for sure!
Wondering where we’ll start or begin,
Stopping a while to take it all in.
There was rubbish and debris and glass on the floor.
Ivy growing around all over the door.
Trees and grass and nature surround,
Imagination, hope and challenge abound.
We walked around with a camera to click
The state it was in just made me sick.
The door kicked in and hopes were dashed,
Battered and bruised, it had been trashed.
Who could do this to somebody’s house?
The person who did this, what a louse.
But that was how we’d got our chance,
Found this and now I wanted to dance.

You see I thought a new route I’d take
And a thorough search I’d begin to make
Was looking around for a bit of romance.
It seems that Scotland is the new France.
You see that is where we’d planned to go
But something happened then, you know.
I found this place which began to start,
To inspire the mind and pull at the heart
I needed an “off switch” from my work
Which into my down time would often lurk.

Wasn’t sure whether he’d go for it,
But trust me he did and now here we sit.
But we can celebrate the day,
We went about it in our own way.
We found out it was meant to be,
That we would get our house by the sea.
It hasn’t been all plain sailing
Been up here when our health is failing
But breathe in the air and drink in the view
And you’ll be filled with hope anew.

We have such plans for our little place,
But taking it slow at our own pace.
The damaged caused by tree crashes,
Like a phoenix she’ll rise from the ashes.
A good decision that they made on the spur.
The right one to make, they must concur.
They made on that day back when
A new chapter of life, they are planning for them.

So their decision yet to be
A cosy cottage for two or three.
Or as big as a barn, for five or more
Right in the middle a huge front door.
But surrounded by fir and forest,
This is the place they love the best.
Building a fire with stick and log,
Blessed with the nonsense of a beautiful dog.
Way back then didn’t hope to envisage
That we’d feel at home here in this village
Upon people here, we’d come to depend
A few will arrive, with a hand to lend.

So is it a grand plan that they’ve hatched?
Will the roof be slate or thatched.
Up here for some time they’ll stand,
As they survey their piece of land.
Which no-one will ever take away,
It’s theirs to keep and here they’ll stay.
Up there it is their decision
Release from the usual working prison.

Don’t get me wrong, the work here is hard
Since this has for a garden, a bit more than a yard.
Don’t know how long it will take us to mend,
But a long time to finish, it’s not yet the end
Till we reach the top of this winding road
Resting a while from this heavy load.
One day we’ll have a home with such style
Which will have made it all worthwhile.
But till then, we’re remaining still
Just the folks who live on the hill.