My wife had a hotdog party with her friends today, and I did my final meditation of the day in front of the fire she had built. It had greatly decreased in size this late at night, and I had to sit quite close to even feel the warmth from the lackluster flames. I tossed in a stick, which improved the situation slightly.
Reflection upon my meditation
Eyes: Glowering embers, strobe-like flickers of light, the stars above, the glowing window of the house next door. The stick burning down its meager length. Fire always seemed to me to be such a happy, enthusiastic force. The flames blue close to the wood.
Ears: Crickets, snap of flames, cars on the road. Unknown animals moving through the trees and grass.
Nose: Wood smoke, chill night air away from the flames.
Mouth: Nothing really.
Skin: Comfortable warmth. One or two mosquitoes landing upon my skin. A violent case of goosebumps.
Mind: Irritation at my wife turning on the light and then interrupting my meditation with a reminder. Last night's season eight premiere of Doctor Who. The Buddha's Fire Sermon.
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