As many of you know, I’ve spent a lot of time on Twitter the past six months. It’s been a wonderful place to connect with writers and digital creatives. This week’s piece is brought to you by the Twitter community. Thank you to all the contributors!
A warm crackle under moonlight as old friends stoked dusty tales out of shadows from the past. Apart for too many years—but tonight, together again. A campfire to host a thousand stories. A circle to foster a hundred more. A space to rekindle dying embers.
If you could capture the entire essence of the sparks flying out from the flames, the cracking of the logs, the scent of charred wood, crickets chanting in the background, people would stop having campfires. You cannot capture this story with words - only with experience.
After a long day, we sat down by the fire. It was calm. It was warm. We let the night fall down on us. Relaxing. Gazing at the stars. Words weren’t needed. We knew why we were there. We knew our purpose. It was a moment of pure relaxation. A wordless deeper connection.
The embers in front of us, a reflection of the embers inside of us. Like the logs turn to ash, that which we know turns to that which we’re unfamiliar with. Despite this change, we are glad to have one another; a community of people we journey through life with.
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