esmaspäev, november 01, 2004
Smoke
Now that it is getting cooler here, we light our fire almost every day. I'm getting pretty good at and can usually get it started with one match! What I find incredible is that even when the fire is roaring and flames are licking up every piece of wood, the smoke and the smell of the fire never seep into the house; they go right up the chimney without a problem.
When you step outside, it is a different story. There is white smoke flowing from the chimneys of most houses, at times even hanging in the yards around some places. The smell is clear and strong and is a mix of the different kinds of wood people are burning: birch and ash and aspen and pine. The sight and smell are not offensive at all, it lends to the overall atmosphere of autumn in Estonia.
I came home after walking from somewhere in town and, after giving me a hug, Evelyn said, "You smell like smoke." At first I thought she meant from cigarettes, but she said it was a woody smell, and I realized it was from walking outside. The smoke that faintly, almost imperceptibly, surrounded me from the many fires had permeated my clothes. It gave me an immediate image of what Evelyn and I are called to do here (and all of us in our own places, really). We are to be like the smoke, reflecting Christ in all that we do so that it infuses those around us. It is not something that can be consciously done, any more than smoke chooses to leave its scent in your clothing. It is just the natural outcome.
It's the first time in my life that I've wanted to be a "smoker."
--Tim
When you step outside, it is a different story. There is white smoke flowing from the chimneys of most houses, at times even hanging in the yards around some places. The smell is clear and strong and is a mix of the different kinds of wood people are burning: birch and ash and aspen and pine. The sight and smell are not offensive at all, it lends to the overall atmosphere of autumn in Estonia.
I came home after walking from somewhere in town and, after giving me a hug, Evelyn said, "You smell like smoke." At first I thought she meant from cigarettes, but she said it was a woody smell, and I realized it was from walking outside. The smoke that faintly, almost imperceptibly, surrounded me from the many fires had permeated my clothes. It gave me an immediate image of what Evelyn and I are called to do here (and all of us in our own places, really). We are to be like the smoke, reflecting Christ in all that we do so that it infuses those around us. It is not something that can be consciously done, any more than smoke chooses to leave its scent in your clothing. It is just the natural outcome.
It's the first time in my life that I've wanted to be a "smoker."
--Tim
