So there we were, resting after dinner around the campfire, when suddenly the fire looked different than on other nights; and that’s putting it mildly.

The flames weren’t just flickering; they were swirling, twisting, and dancing together in these wild, interlaced ribbons of electric blue, vivid pink, and fiery orange, shooting up from the logs like arms reaching for the sky, escaping the woodpile like they had someplace important to be.
I blinked a few times, thinking maybe I was just tired… but then the fire did what I can only describe as a shimmy. A full shimmy.
I whispered, “Is it… dancing?”
My friends, wide-eyed and speechless, just nodded very slowly, like they were afraid sudden movement would spook it.
We sat there watching the fire, the smoke, and the soft, harmonic hum the logs were making; almost like they were warming up for a concert.
We all silently agreed to sit very quietly and let the universe do whatever it was doing.
Let’s just say… the night got interesting, and that fire clearly had opinions to share.

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