I love spring days when the smell of burning brush wafts through suburban neighborhoods. Stay away from my father on burning days; if it resembles anything made of wood, it will get tossed in the fire. He couldn't be happier on days like this...relaxing in his adirondack, chainsaw to the left, Orvis catalog to the right and a huge pile of crackling flames in front of him.
My dad does the same thing. Thanks for capturing the memory for me. Even though the picture isn't of my pops, I can visualize him there. Love this and your blog!
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