A glowing hearth always makes things cozy. 

There’s a reason that “heart” is contained in the word “hearth.” My childhood home had a large fireplace in the living room, & its glow & heat drew kids, parents, & pets alike. I loved to sit by the fire, since the old New Englander didn’t hold heat all that well. My parents were careful with the thermostat, since oil fuel costs quite a bit during a New England winter. Ask anyone who lives in the Northeast.

That fireplace was wood-burning, which meant that my brothers worked on “the property,” acreage in a adjacent town containing largely woods & ledge. They would fell trees & bring them home for splitting. The younger kids were good for stacking wood outside or refilling the wood ring, a cast iron frame that held the split logs. Even my mother chopped wood, so it was equal opportunity for chores.

The childhood fireplace had an iron chain screen you could draw from both sides. 

Perhaps the fire symbolized the work of gathering & preparing the wood it would consume, but the scent of the wood-fire smoke wafting through the air outside, commingling with decaying leaves of fall–that was a familiar smell. When I catch the drift of wood smoke today, it brings me right back to those memories. The fire poker & bellows required some skill in getting the perfect rate of burn. I was up to the challenge, of course. It felt dangerous to tend the fire, especially as a young girl.

Today at the farm, we have a wood & coal-burning stove in what is called the “coal room.” I must admit it took me some time to master getting the coal to catch & managing the ash & restocking, the scraping & venting, all to make sure the coal bed would sustain & kick off its impressive heat. There’s a sense of accomplishment in being able to start & maintain a good fire. A Girl Scout for 13 years, I certainly had plenty of practice when camping.

But coal is a whole different game. So, I do take pride in having honed that skill.

Field stone fireplaces hold the most charm for me. 

One of the most attractive features of the farm’s hearth is the stone & masonry that support the stove. When in England, you’ll see these massive fireplaces in manor houses, so big you could stand inside of them. And when you visit the Cotswolds, the stone cottage holds the greatest rustic charm. There’s something organic & natural in repurposing the granite boulders pulled from the ground when tilling the land for farming.

Early American homes also have massive hearths, some even having beehive ovens. Since this farm dates back to 1789, I love the history & organic feel of the coal room. I feel a bit like Bilbo Baggins at Bag End.

Thus, fireplaces & their history have always enticed me. I always knew I wanted a home with one. To survive cold winters, the hearth gives you an immediate access to a kind of direct & intense warmth practically impossible to match any other way. A mug of tea, a cat in the lap, a book being read–the accoutrements of the introvert at rest, in recharge mode. Perfection.

A familiar sight for introverts living in colder climates. 

As covered in another post tied to hygge, fireplaces & hearths provide a major source of the coziness described. I think back to times when humans first found shelter in caves, & how fire was such a precious thing, so precious that Prometheus in myth would suffer a terrible fate for committing the crime of sharing fire with humans. Fire led to cooked & preserved food, processing ore & metal, expansion into colder climes. Fire led to civilization.

Maybe that’s why there’s a primal feeling when looking at a fire. Like it’s been encoded in our DNA to appreciate all that it’s given us. People, especially introverts, can lose themselves in thought, just watching the glow & the flames dancing. Mesmerizing & soothing, as colors shift from orange to white to even blue. You just drift off.

My favorite indoor spot at the farm. 

Think about getaways to bed & breakfasts or small inns. What is a major feature usually highlighted? A fireplace. It just brings people together. And the act of being by a fire just tends to hush you. The quiet, with the only sound the crackling of the flames consuming wood. It’s lovely. The relaxation that accompanies feeling warm on a cold day.

Well, at least I find fires lovely, warming the cockles of the soul.