Friday, January 07, 2011
This morning on my way to work I came upon a fellow twirling fire out in the middle of Clark Street. He had a pair of chains, and at the end of the chains were fist sized balls of fire. It made for a pretty scene, what with the new fallen snow on everything making it all smooth and silent. The spectators on the porch of the house party he was obviously from were fairly quiet too. I could hear the swooshing of the fire chains as he whirled them around, first in front then above his head, then around his legs and back up into the air. He reminded me of Dustfinger from the book Inkheart. Couldn't take any pictures, but it was maybe just one of those ephemeral moments that refuses to be captured. Fleeting, definitely, but undeniably delightful.