Tonight it appears that one of my comrades is rather anxious to start the campfire. He said earlier in the day he had purchased a new hand forged campfire poker and I am inclined to believe it has something to do with his actions.

There was a small fire earlier, reduced to hot coals to cook our evening feast. Everyone had a hand in cooking dinner, each with his or her own self designated chore, from frying fish, peeling potatoes and doing the dishes. The entire process has a harmony about it, as it always does, about three times a year.

It seems like at most campsites, everyone has a hand in tending to the maintenance of the campfire. And everyone has a hand in the conversation that takes place around it.

As the dialogue begins, all eyes are on the fire€¦and Bob. He is a good friend of mine and the person who just obtained the wrought iron campfire poker. There are a few conversations going at the same time and I am not sure on which one to join in. Tonight, there are seven of us who just finished a productive day of fishing. We are all tired, but warming up after the feast and happy to be together.

Stories of the present day and days past fill the atmosphere around the campfire. We talk of practically anything that comes to mind. Our experiences, hopes, dreams and sometimes a philosophical discussion will evolve. Many diversified thoughts and comments come about, but still, one thing remains common and attractive to everybody. The campfire.

All seven of us campers, while discussing anything and conversing with each other, are unconsciously fixated on the burning embers in front of them. Or at least I thought they were. Frank had his eye on something else.

Bob was the only person standing at the time, until Frank stood up and said to Bob that he will help him get the fire going better. Not that Bob needed any help, but Frank said he could not ignore the new wrought iron campfire poker that was being used.

I could go on to tell you more about Frank and his exploits around a campfire. His burning pant leg and his singed eyebrows immediately come to mind, but we will leave those thoughts to another story.

Now Bob had some bragging rights. He told about his new purchase with thoughtfulness and pride in his voice and how he thought of all of us when he ordered it.

He told of the friendships he has forged in his life, never to be separated from them, just as the campfire poker is forged together. Looking directly at us, I could tell he was dead serious. This tool will last a lifetime, just as friendship will. All the pieces are forged together, never to be undone. It is beautiful, one of a kind and as unique as every individual here tonight. A master craftsman built it.

Bob sort of threw me on that last statement. He is not generally this philosophical, but I think I get it. Everybody did.

The conversations continued with a glow as warm as the fire. Frank now had the campfire poker in his hand.