I enjoyed watching the smoke. At times, the smoke would almost totally obscure my view of the fort, and other times, it'd be wispy strings floating by. Curls and blobs and streamers and patches of smoke... it entertained me for quite a while.
The wood stove doesn't always smoke like that; I think it depends on what stage it's in while it's handling the current load of wood that Kev's put in it, and on the weather.
All the while I'm watching the smoke, I'm thinking of how much work Kev puts into keeping it going during the winter and keeping our wood supply ready by cutting, splitting & stacking wood spring, summer and fall. Our house is warm and toasty because of his hard work.
Every once in a great while, when I open the front door, like when I feed our cats or something, if the wind is just right, I catch a whiff of wood smoke, and it smells so good. Sometimes when Kev comes back in the house from filling up the stove and doing other outside chores, his beard will smell a little bit like wood smoke... mmm.... nice.
There are so many wonderful memories I have that are triggered by the smell of wood smoke. The family gatherings with a campfire, a quiet campfire with just Kev & I and sometimes with or without the kids by the pond, times we went camping in so many different areas of Michigan, big bonfires burning brush that my sister & brother-in-law have cleared on their land, oh, just all kinds of good times.
There was one time when I was little, after my folks had just moved us all out to the property where they live now & where us kids all grew up, that there was a forest fire... it was a scary, scary time. For a long time, wood smoke would trigger memories of that and of being afraid, but I'm way past that now... it was 40 years ago.
Now, the smell of wood smoke makes me feel good.
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