December 2023
Campfire: the Sublime Companion

As the winter months rapidly approach, we may not all be willing yet to seek refuge indoors. Fortunately we have the campfire, and fire-building is an art form practiced since before we became human. Mastery of the flames was an essential step in that evolution. Our affinity for the campfire may well be an ancestral memory of security and community originating a million and a half years ago, with Homo Erectus. To strike a spark one need only reach for the fire bow, flint and steel, fire piston or waterproof match. There are dozens of campfire layouts and techniques, from the elementary to the sophisticated, from the tipi and log-cabin builds to the Dakota hole and Swedish torch methods. In a pinch, a twist of newspaper, a ring of stones, some dry twigs and a Bic lighter will usually get the job done.

Long-dead fire rings, their cold ashes now taken by the wind, can be found in deserts, on mountaintops and in any wild place in this country where people have set foot. Native Americans, explorers, cowboys, prospectors, scout troops, hunters, hikers and hermits have all left them in their wakes. Most of us remember times around a campfire with friends or family, singing, roasting marshmallows, telling stories and staying warm. If you’ve spent a lot of time camping or living outdoors, there’s a good chance you’ve come to have an intimate relationship with fire.

Even in the event that you don’t inhabit a beer commercial, the campfire serves many purposes beyond communal meeting place and party spot. Fire provides light and warmth against the elements. It signals your presence and marks territory against intrusion by other humans and wild animals. You can boil water and cook a meal with the flames and coals. Fire has served man in these invaluable ways since prehistoric times, but none is the most sublime purpose of a controlled, captive fire. Once you’ve shooed off the rodents, reptiles and crawlies, prepared your sleeping area and your dinner is done, the night remains. Without a campfire you’re just a man or woman, sitting alone at some insignificant spot in the dark. Ah, but when that flame licks up, that first log catches and you know the fire is a living thing, something immediately changes.

That spot you occupied in the dark only a moment ago has become a vibrant oasis. Your personal space has expanded. Now you have a real camp, you’ve staked your claim and settled in. The fire is an animated entity, colorful and bright, requiring oversight to stay properly contained and continue to burn. If its energy flags, you feed it, if it gets too rowdy, you calm it. The fire demands your attention, and blinds you to anything beyond its radiance.

But this isn’t a one-sided relationship. The flames are hypnotic, they dance for you as the wood crackles and pops conversationally. Fire entertains, it captivates. There’s no need to go to sleep just yet. Are you cold? Come closer. Too warm? Step away for a moment, you’ll be back. Sit a while longer.

A campfire is as much a companion as a tool. It empowers you and defines where you are in the dark of night. It keeps you company, occupies the attention and provides a meditative focus. It lends purpose to idle time. The fireside is a place of contemplation, release and contentment, a Zen koan with smoke.

When at last you begin to yawn, having spent a relaxing hour or two in silent camaraderie with the flames, you restrict the fuel and police the coals. You watch as the last tongues of fire vanish and reappear for a while, then finally flicker out. The shifting glow of the coals is entrancing, but the returning cool of the night insists it’s time to say goodnight and seek shelter. Your companion is gone, but you know for absolute certain that when next you meet, the face of the campfire will be familiar and unchanged.

Note: For all its charm and appeal, fire is dangerous. Follow all local guidelines pertaining to fire safety, and keep a shovel, water and/or extinguisher handy if you are going to have a campfire. Do not leave a fire burning unattended, and never leave live coals behind when you depart camp. Fire destroys forests and homes, and kills people and wildlife. Fire is not a toy. Please use it responsibly

Anthony Gainey is a Prescott writer and observer of the human condition.

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