The woodburner needs to be stoked about every two-to-three hours to fight off below 0 temps.
It's three in the morning.
The fire is down to orange, glowing coals.
Quietly I chuck three chunks of wood on top of them and close the doors.
Wonder if the wood'll take?
Better make sure.
Leaning back in the Chair, I burrow under a blanket.
Snow starts to fall like glitter outside the window.
My mind starts to wander off down deer trails of thoughts.
Stopping.
Grazing.
Ambling on.
Suddenly light flickers across the ceiling, waving back and forth, while firelight and shadow slowly dance on the carpet in front of the half-glass doors.
Cool.
Mini auroras.
A borealis and an australis.
Dancing quietly together, like Fred and Ginger, as the snow glitters outside.
Be still and know, eh?