Yellow

On Saturday evening we ate a simple supper al fresco. I tried to find the wick of a large outdoor candle. It was buried beneath a layer of dead leaves and twigs. I used the dead vegetation as kindling. It was a pathetic, girly fire. Jimmy gathered more dead wood from around the garden, saying 'Man! Fire!' as he laboured. Soon a mighty, but controlled and scented, fire burnt in this wooden tub. It entertained us until bedtime. We had no need of  telly.