Campfire.

The heat intensifies, growing, inviting, tempting me. The comfort, my safety, the risk, my danger. A temptation to reach out for more warmth, a recognition, that too much of a good thing is perilous.

It sounds like the crackle of earth reborn, again and again. Ever changing form, ever shifting elements.
The bright, bright light uncovering everything, everything encapsulated in ambers, yellows, and a haze of gray.  

It smells like a home, not a new home, but my first home, deep in my bones, my ancestors most treasured. A weapon, a tool, a gift, a new beginning, a sudden end.

The smoke, a haze, the smoke asphyxiates, the smoke, a warning, warning of life undone and come anew.