I once nearly set fire to a hundred-year-old cabin by misusing its wood stove.
The night before it happened, I thought I was going to freeze to death because I was unable to keep a fire lit without smoking up the whole single room. I had to open all the windows and it was cold out, late fall, basically winter, and the wood stove would’ve been the only heart source available. This was a cabin with no running water, no electricity, and no cell service. My wrist watch became so cold in the night that it permanently stopped working. RIP.
In the morning when I somehow managed to keep a fire lit in the mysterious wood stove, I set my shearling slippers on top of it, my jeans, and my shirt for the day, to warm up. Meanwhile I took in the scenery. Bundled in all my other clothes, I sat peacefully by the creek just outside the cabin with my coffee. To be clear, despite nearly freezing to death the night before, I enjoyed cold coffee as I do every day. I was entirely content, especially admiring the active chimney of the little cabin, evidence of my eventual success. When I came back in everything on the stove was smoking violently and burning up. I’m sure I screamed, and there was no one within miles to hear me. The shirt and slippers were beyond salvage, but I later managed to turn the jeans into shorts by cutting off (most of) the burnt parts.
All night, as I was freezing, I could hear the creek. A brook so babley that it nearly sounded like people were talking outside, but that was impossible. I was completely alone at death’s door, without fire, without enough blankets, wearing every article of clothing that I had. It may have been the most alone I’ve ever been in my entire life. I kept warm in my mind by imagining a future where I returned to this cabin in the hot summer and submerged my body in the clear running water of the creek, resting my back against a large flat stone beneath the surface, like it was a cool bed waiting for me. I took myself there, to that future cool, to bear the cold of my loneliest night. I don’t think I would have ever summoned such an image, if it were not for the mysteries of the wood stove.