Gypsy Dancers

I grew up along the Platte River in central Nebraska and lived in a house nearly 100 years old. While it had indoor plumbing and electricity by the time I came along, it lacked TV and central heating. In the winter, corn cobs left over from the fall harvest were burned in a potbellied stove for heat. Some nights with the fire freshly stoked, mom would turn out the lights so we could watch the firelight dance like Gypsies on the walls and ceiling, just as she had done with her father as a little girl in eastern Nebraska.

Whenever I am near a fire such as the one pictured above, I think of those “Gypsy Dancers” and feel a warm and happy connection with my long-departed mother and grandfather.

#gypsy #dancer #firelight #Nebraska