One life. On fire.

      The faint smell of smoke greets me as my alarm informs of the time. It smells like camping, like a pine-wood fire way up in the mountains. A fire that somebody didn’t quite put out last night.

      I leave the house and walk into a haze. The smell is stronger outside. After a very few minutes, the smoke convinces me that exercise needs to happen somewhere else today.

{Up to the greenhouse. Out to the road.}

There it is. A plume of smoke bubbles vertically into the sky. As though something of honor, it is christened with pink and gold of morning. 

I don’t really know what is happening over there, but I know. I don’t see the fire. I can’t see the fire. No one I know has seen it. But there is not the shadow of a doubt, it is there. 

This makes me think. 

          One life. on fire. Huge impact. 

That one fire can touch areas so far removed from itself, that you cannot even know what -whom- is burning. 

The smell is in the air. It effects the way we live. We can see the evidence. 

One life. On fire.

May that be you. and me.