A night at the beach

Bonfires, I love them so much. In the beginning is circumspection, sitting in a corner, sipping from the bottle and studying the situation around: who is there, who's with who, what they're doing. Getting slowly into the mood. It's not like being at a party, no queues at the bar (or at the toilets); no urgency to talk with people; no need to speak loud over the music or to build inconsistent, ephemeral relationships, following the untold but strongly coded rules imposed by social habits. No hurry at all. Just the calmness and the dancing flames you could pass the whole night just staring at. Fires are sanctuaries.

Then words. Alcohol does its job, the social animal wakes up. Meeting new people is inviting, if you like that kind of stuff. Discovering the stories hidden just behind someone's face is always worth, exploring is one of the few activities in which I'm pretty good. Human figures come out from the darkness, keen to share a glass and some time, the atmosphere does the rest. Dancing, talking, drinking, playing, hours pass and names, voices and stories go with them. Conversations around a bonfire are more deep, straightforward, true. Or at least they seem to be like that. Maybe is just the effect of the flames, their ability to bring places back to a primordial state, drawing out one's primitive soul with its basic needs: some heat, nutrition and companionship. In order to feel less alone under the cold gaze of the stars. Getting close to people is easier when flames bless your meeting. Yeah, around a fire people play by different rules, when you're embraced by the darkness masks slip down, letting glimpse something of what's behind. It's a kind of magic, I believe.

Then slowly the last piece of wood gets consumed, embers get extinguished, eventually also ashes cool down. People turn back into shadows, slowly fading away. And you're back, alone and dizzy, smelling like smoke. Something's come and gone leaving no trace behind but a smoking hole, though it has deserved to be lived for its life as short as a burning stick. Now there's just that same stillness, together with the feeling of having lived something unusual that was on a different level of reality, untied by the common rules that govern the daytime life. Bonfires are also parallel dimensions, ruled by different codes: unlike other situations, when your face is enlightened by a fire also the lonely darkness is an acceptable option. Anybody is free to give up a conversation at any time, to step back, sit aside and simply start to watch the dancing flames again.

Hesitation, excitement and putting out. This looks so similar to a love story, too.