sleeping by the fire

Clint loves to build fires.
To him, it's like an artform.
Cutting the wood.
Selecting just the right batch of logs and kindling.
Blowing air into the little sparks and tiny flames
Until he has a roaring, crackling fire.

Last night, he built a beauty.
He was so cute.
After he got it just right, he put the screen in front of it.
He then stood back, admiring his work, and said,
"Perfection."

Then, he moved my favorite old recliner in front of it for me.
I sat down, reclined, with books and journal in hand.
And began to read, as I looked up from the pages often to admire the dancing flames.

And soon after I had begun, I drifted off to sleep.
(Which never happens to me - I can't usually fall asleep anywhere else but my bed.)

But Clint had created such a cozy spot for me,
sleep was easy.

I slept there till midnight.
Then, Clint gently stroked my hair to wake me up so I could go upstairs to bed.

I stumbled up the stairs and snuggled into bed and was back asleep again in minutes.