Minimalist

In May, my friend, Gayle, bought me a fire pit for my birthday.

On Sunday, Andy set it up and we toasted marshmallows, which was the second part of my present from Gayle.  They were a little sticky in the bag, because the air in Tennessee is made from lukewarm soup and the humidity permeates everything.  But they toasted up and were delicious.

I love toasty marshmallows.

I love the smell of wood smoke.

Sunday was the fourth of July and people were setting off fireworks that you could just barely see from our yard through the trees.  It was pretty.

And even better, lightening bugs were filtering up into the air.

It was just the right temperature, not too hot, even sitting next to the fire.

It was a good day.

"Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror.  Just keep going.  No feeling is final."
-Rainer Maria Rilke

Many years ago, we had a cookout at our old house on the fourth at our old house.

There were so many people there.

Now all those people are gone, if not forever, from our lives at least.

I was thinking about them as we toasted marshmallows.

Or selfishly, maybe, not them.

But the feeling of them.

The feeling of belonging to a group.

The comfort of being surrounded by others.

It's not something I ever thought I would miss.

I like solitude...even at the worst times, I don't mind it.

But I do miss having a group.

Not always, and, honestly, not until recently.

But I do miss it.

How do you make friends as an adult?

How do you put yourself out there?

And, if it can be managed, will it feel the way I want it to feel?

Or is what I long for nostalgia, hazed over with rose colored glasses?

What if things weren't really the way I remember them?

Am I missing something that never existed in the first place?