Pine

FIELD NOTE No. 009

When someone says they have split pine they aren’t going to use, you don’t ask many questions.

You load the truck.

You stack it.

Before long, the smell starts bringing back places you hadn’t thought about in years.

Northern campfires.

Evenings that lasted long after the sun disappeared.

Around here we’re spoiled with hardwood. It burns longer. It heats better. It’s the practical choice.

But a fire pit isn’t about efficiency.

Pine crackles.

It pops.

It throws sparks into the night and carries a smell that reminds me of the North.

Stacking it on a ninety-four-degree afternoon with sweat running down your back somehow makes you look forward to a cool October evening.

Sometimes you’re not stacking firewood.

You’re stacking memories for a season that hasn’t arrived yet.

— Esker