Just as the sun began to set, we had fired up our stove and gathered materials. Over the past two years, I had realized that one of the downsides of moving from the countryside into the city was not getting to spend as much time enjoying the simple pleasures of a star-lit sky, or a warm bonfire surrounded by friends. We would often celebrate the breaking in of crisp, spring nights with a freshly lit fire and s'mores to pass around -- telling new stories to old friends, burrowed deeply in blankets and immersed in fond conversation with great company. "I've never seen anyone burn a bonfire in Chicago." I believe it's illegal, actually. We don't have much for a backyard, but we do have candles, blankets, a stove for roasting marshmallows and of course, each other. After we had tucked in our daughter, nestled warm in her own crib, we began to tip-toe quietly back to the kitchen and lit the stove. Huddled together with forks in hand, we laughed as we watched our marshmallows swell and start to brown. Now is such a special, yet challenging time as our first year as newlyweds. Experiences and moments that are solely reserved for my husband and I are few and far between. We can make the most of what we do have, and find a way to re-create those memories of simpler times; memories of folding chairs in the middle of backyard forests, friends that are too far away, tiki torches, and mosquito bites. This is the way we rekindle our love, a new-age urban bonfire of sorts. Nothing too complicated, and just the way we like it.
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