We had a wonderful evening tonight. We went to our friends’ house and ate pizza and drank wine around their bonfire. 

It was an evening of not caring what the kids ate for dinner or whether they kept their coats on (it wasn’t that cold). It was an evening of catching up with friends we hadn’t seen in way too long, hearing our first “ghost” stories, and getting dirty with soot and sticky with half-melted marshmallows. 

I actually tried to take a few pictures. As you can probably imagine, they didn’t turn out well. Firelight is beautiful in person, but not as amazing when it’s captured by an iPhone camera. Round, red cheeks, flushed with cold and running around the yard. Pizza crusts on the ground, getting sniffed out by the dog. Sand, dirt, and grass making a nice coating inside jackets and boots. Scarves and hats blocking all the faces from view. 

I guess I’m okay with it. 

I’m really okay with it. 

Because these are the times that the pictures are etched in our memory by the firelight, and not by the flash. The faces with rosy cheeks and big grins aren’t because we shouted, “Say cheese!” They’re because we just played. We threw caution to the wind and let them throw logs (and their paper plates) onto the fire. We let them go in and out and out and in without micromanaging. We snuggled the children that weren’t ours and let our own run wild and share sippy cups. Because who cares? It was fun. It was fall, and fire, and friends. It was blurry photos, but who cares about that? We had fun.