The deer hunting season has ended. We can go the lease and still enjoy the last of the winter nights. There is no electricity or running water, so we bring we what we need. After sunset we prepare our meal, usually large hunks of meat with other stuff. Then we gather our camp chairs around and start to build up a large fire.
If Robert is there, he will go all out as evidenced by the above photo. His fires are memorable.
We sit and pour whiskey into our little stainless cups and we sip while smoking cigars. Whatever is spoken in this place is not to be repeated elsewhere. It is our sanctuary. The camp fire is why we are there.
Robert brings his accoustic guitar and sits nearby and plays. He plays for himself but we all benefit from the impromptu concert. Sometimes we hum along and even pipe in when we remember the lyrics. Accompanied by the warmth and crackle of the fire, this is Big Mojo...Soul Candy.
As the hours pass, more and more large logs are placed on the fire and we settle in and relax. My mind calms and I begin to let go of the small demons. The fire and companionship cleanse me once again. The brain just starts random firing and all kinds of stuff comes and then goes. I am me again...rare shit indeed.
Thank you, My Brothers, for these weekends.
Ernesto
