The Burning of the Tree

There's something so cleansing about a really hot, huge fire.


Since moving to our farm in SE Ohio in 1992, we've always put our Christmas tree to triple duty. First we decorate it and enjoy it from mid-December until early January. Then we haul it out and build a brush pile around it for our feeder birds to shelter in during the harsh weather of late winter. Finally, on Memorial Day, we burn the tree and dance around it, howling.

Last night was our night for the annual Burning of the Tree. The brown remains of our Fraser fir went up like crackling gunpowder. Our howling put the local coyotes to shame. And our dancing, well, let's just say it looked like we'd been electrocuted, then attacked by biting ants.

I am the FIRE KING burning off both winter and spring. Cold and snow are now long gone. Let summer rule from here on!

Thanks to Steve, Shila, David, Mary Jane, Zane, Margaret, and (especially) Oona for making the scene. A great way to usher in summer.

An extra dollop of gratitude to Shila for these images.

Basking in the fire's glow. Stars in the sky above, whip-poor-wills in the meadow below.

I am but a simple caveman. Your modern ways confuse and confound me.