The past few days have been hot with low humidity, and the Bone Creek fire in the Big Horn Mountains just west of me has picked back up. Most days, the smoke does not come down into Sheridan, but this afternoon the winds were out of the northwest, and the smoke descended on us, filling the air with that sweet smell.
I find the smell of wood smoke unbelievably intoxicating and if I relax into its sweet embrace it will carry me away. I’m not sure where this link to wood smoke comes from, but I’ve had it as long as I can remember. I spent about an hour sitting out on my steps tonight surrounded by it’s sweetness. At one point, I became aware of a soft distant drumming, then came the chanting of some Native American ceremony, and I could sense them dancing around a fire in their finest ceremonial dress. It was at this point that the mosquitos and bugs became too much of a distraction and I came back inside.
Tonight I will sleep with all my windows open and invite the spirits of the smoke to come in and again carry me away.