It was a wonderful evening. It could have been a couple of hundred years ago.

Maria and I were sitting by the blazing Winter Hospice Bonfire we lit tonight out in the pasture when we were suddenly joined by a new friend – a full moon had just popped up out of the clouds right in front of us.

We were both getting hungry, we started the fire at dusk, a little after  5 p.m., and it was getting close to eight o’clock. It was so beautiful and warm – it was freezing just a few feet away – I suggested eating by the fire.

I said I’d go in and cook (I usually shop and cook) and Maria jumped at the idea, she said she’d keep an eye on the fire while I cooked.

I had some Grass-Fed hamburgers inside waiting for dinner. I shape them into patties, rub Basil into the meat, then soak them in Worcestershire sauce for an hour or two, and add salt and pepper.

I cook them in a frying pan (too cold for the outdoor propane grill) for about eight minutes on each side over a medium flame. I poured two glasses of sherry, cooked two sweet potatoes (in the oven at 450 degrees) for 35 minutes, and added some fresh organic grapes.

I added pickles to the Pita bread I use as a roll, and a few Tumeric and Lentil chips.

Maria brought out a small box of truffles that Emily, a fellow belly dancer brought her for Christmas, they were unbelievably delicious.

I got all of this onto a tray and brought it out to the pasture where Maria had set up two plastic chairs. Along with the sherry,  brought a bottled water and a can of Diet 7 Up, I drink it all day.

It was not exactly a pagan feast, but it felt like that to us, honestly, the food tastes many times better out their in the fresh aid and moon light by a warm fire.

I had to get  up to take a photograph of Maria eating dinner. I was sitting right next to her. I wanted to remember it.

The donkeys and sheep had vanished once the fire started, the donkeys crept back near our chairs to figure out what was going on. They don’t want anything to do with fire.

Fate kept hoping to chase the sheep but they had fled to the northern pasture.

Red and Bud were in the house, I thought Red was feeling the cold. I would not trust the Irish Terror to run around in the pasture in the dark. He would definitely try to challenge a coyote if one showed up. Bud thinks he’s a monster.

It was warm by the fire, and the moon rising above us was gorgeous, the food tasted wonderful out there.

We both loved this meal and the evening that preceded and followed it. The night could not have been more beautiful, the fire stronger, louder or warmer.

I am grateful to Maria for thinking of a Solstice bonfire. I would never have thought of it, but I will long remember it.

“This,” I told Maria, “is why we are here.”

This was a wondrous way to celebrate life, to mark the coming of winter, and Spring coming right on its heels. Here’s to the beginning of light.