The Comfort of Hearth and Home

I've posted many times about my own hearth and today I thought I'd share some thoughts and pictures from Pinterest .There is not anything quite as lonely has a hearth without a soul to enjoy it. From the beginning of time we have sought the comfort of the fire.  The earliest settlers built their cabins by hand and hard labor near a stream or river. A place of comfort and safety with a hearth and a fire to prepare food and to keep them warm from raging winter storms. But the hearth has evolved over time.   

How many secrets have been told by the hearth. How many prayers shared and so much of the history of man has been passed along through generation after generation while the family gathered by the hearth.

 I try to imagine the hearth built by the hands of my ancestors. This was a time when the world was quiet and dark. No artificial light disturbed the brilliance of the stars and only the voices of the woodland creatures  were to be heard. The crackle of the fire and the wise voices of people that knew way more of the beauty of hearth and home than we know today would speak softly of the ways of life and family, man and nature.

How many weary travelers have lit a pipe and sought solace at the hearth of and old Inn or a kind stranger offering a meal and bed for the night.

In today's world many homes have no hearth at all but even still we tend to gather at an outside fire.  This is a place of family, of dreaming and story telling. In the cold months whenever I travel I find my eye being drawn to the rise and curl of  wood smoke from the chimney of an old house along  the road. It tells me I will be home again soon.

The picture below is my own hearth, Even now in the heat of summer it calls to me. It reminds me of the warmth that I have enjoyed here on the cold evenings of winter, I remember peaceful family gatherings and dream of  future gatherings that will come. It beckons to me, it draws me near and it comforts me.  I can sit here in peace and quiet and for a few moments on a day late in summer I can allow myself to hear the soft voice of my grandmother as she taught me sew,  I can see visions of her own mother and father and grandparents as she tells again the story's of their lives, The magic of the hearth bringing family together across the barriers of time.