Ah... This is a good one. Iíve certainly had greater... And lesser... But this one... Oh, it feels JUST RIGHT. The fall chill keeps trying to creep in, so this was a little comfort in the cold, gray city night. Right amount of heat exuding... You can easily walk as close as you need to to warm yourself to perfection. Itís a nice feeling. Perfect for a cozy stroll, with only you and your shadow against the glow.
I decided upon a natural start tonight. This old decayed husk had plenty of refuse inside, deposited over the years by time and squatters long gone. And, I am still sated from last weekís exceptional blaze... Yes... I will always remember that one... It took them two days to put it out completely! I think I over-achieved on that inferno. Proud of that one.
But, tonight... Natural start, no accelerants. A good slow build up. Yes... Something you can appreciate from the distance. The flicker of orange through the windows, the seeping smoke through vents, and all that Anticipation... Just waiting for when the heat shatters that first plate glass window. That crisp clatter of shards upon the ground afterwards. I never quite appreciated it until I moved my work to the city. Old, abandoned, dried up barns never had those little details to them. My earlier efforts seem so paltry now, but I was young and inexperienced. So easy to thrill back then. Some times I wish to go back to those days of simple gratification. All that eager experimentation.
Glass though... The sharp crackles, the triumphant shatter, and the crisp crinkle upon the pavement. Thatís an experience you donít get out in the country. And... the Anticipation. It certainly takes experience to truly develop that appreciation. So similar to learning the minute differences between the fine liquors. The tastes and smells...
Yes, this is nice one. Welcoming. A slow burn you can enjoy. Despite the state of ruin, this old warehouse husk burns very clean. A paper and cardboard head. A thick meaty body of old timber with that hint of earth from the brickwork. And a pleasant tail of the iron and copper giving a faint lasting color. This was a rare find. Too many have that smothering stench of petrochemicals that just overpowers anything else. Or, that musty tinge from overwhelming mold. Unfortunately, too many have that lingering acrid odor of meth chemistry. The types of smells that drive you away, and prevent you from getting the full experience.
Eventually... Iíll have to move on. But, this sprawling mass of civilization still has more to offer. Iíve found a few delicacies that Iíll need some time to think about. Have to prepare something nice and appropriate. Those structures... They have stood against time. Struggled to remain relevant in the age of disposable culture. Itís so cruel. These creations of humanity have served their purpose and are left to decay. Stripped of what made them useful, abandoned to rot against the time. Decades pass, and the owners have long forgotten them. Proposals of urban renewal carelessly dangled in front of them to grant some vain hope. No... They donít deserve such treatment.
They deserve a final release. A proper cleansing. All the history faded. All the ghosts of the past. All dashed future hopes discarded within them. A release. A brilliant, hot blaze in defiance against the cold, uncaring city skyline. One last chance at significance and relevance. Then... They are allowed to move on. Only when it is gone, do people mourn it completely. Only when the remote chance of resuscitation is gone does anyone process the finality of it. They will have their found memories of the place, write about itís history, and remind everyone of the purpose it once served. A fitting end. A proper remembrance. A true end. Peace.
Oh... I guess it finally got called in. I still forget that some people still keep an eye upon the desolate outskirts. Still this one will be easy to enjoy. The lights, the siren. The people paying attention to spectacle. I must admit as much as I enjoy the inferno, I have come to appreciate the work of the firefighters. Their meticulous approaches, their understanding of how the fire lives, and their tactics to quell their enemy. Fascinating to watch. I do think we all share a respect for the flames, even if our intentions are opposing. Light and dark. Yin and Yang. Itís a balance to be maintained. Admittedly, even for my own ego... I like to see how difficult it was to soothe my beast. Gives a certain credence to my work. Itís one thing for a blaze to shine brightly into the night, but be extinguished trivially. But you must have a certain pride for creating the enduring blazes that refuse to be halted from their task. They wonít be done until it is done. A natural dedication.
I might as well find a convenient, secluded spot to watch. Donít need to draw too much suspicion. I wouldnít want to be ushered away... Not just yet. The show just came back from intermission, and I do want to enjoy the third act.
Where thereís smokes, thereís fire. And where thereís fire...
Youíll find me.