I couldn’t count the number of times that I had sat in that exact spot, next to my dad and my brother, after a long day of yard work. On this particular october day we had started work at around 8 am, with the plan to bring down a few trees around our house that had constantly been dropping sticks and leaves damaging our roof. My dad got his chainsaw out and me and my brother had the job of lassoing a rope around the tree and directing it away from the house when it falls. We started with one of the biggest trees in our backyard that was old and always dangerously swaying close to our house on especially windy days. The usual swearing and miscalculations took place, but eventually the first one finally came down with a creak and a splinter of wood, and a massive crash that was so loud my neighbors started poking their heads out their windows to see what the commotion was. somehow me and my brother had managed to guide the massive oak away from the house and the deck. By 4 o’clock we had taken down 3 other trees, and me and brother were ready to head inside for dinner, exhausted from the work. My dad dad urged us though to stay outside and help him take the last few down,  and told us by dawn we’d be done, and it would be worth it. Reluctantly we kept at it, taking down tree after tree. Both me and my brother were now drenched in sweat, digging our heels into the soft earth, our hands raw from the twisted strands of the rough rope. My dad kept us the whole time, shouting directions and encouragement. Sure enough, the last tree fell just before dawn, and we had quite a few piles of fresh wood, and a mountain in the middle of the fire pit stacked 5 feet high. We stood back and looked at our work. The yard looked completely changed, actually allowing light to shine through now, illuminating the whole area and making our backyard look much larger than before. We stood there, admiring our work and allowing ourselves to rest. My dad though still thought there was more work to be done, and mentioned something about getting after it next weekend. At this point though we were too tired to do anything else, so my dad got the fire going, and soon we were all sitting around the pit in our usual spots, watching the flames flicker, plastered against the pitch black sky. I watched the orange glow radiate my dad and brother’s faces.

“Nice night,” my dad said.
“Yeah” me and my brother both respond.
These were the only spoken words all night between us. The glow of the fire seemed to wrap itself around us bringing us closer, its warmth drawing us in. Its hypnotizing glow had us all in a trance and I couldn’t help but to feel as though as the fire grew, I felt closer to my dad and brother. My joints ached from the physically demanding work of the day, as I sunk my boots into the pebbles beneath my feet, and took in my surroundings. The smell of aged wood and mulch, the slight rustling of leaves and the occasional crack of the fire. It seemed as though the only things that existed in the world were the things that the soft light could reach. The only thing that mattered right now was us three. The heat of the fire permeated through my jeans and it seems to spread throughout my body. My dad was right, it had definitely been worth to stay out and finish the work and enjoy the night. He had usually been right throughout my childhood, and had always pushed me and my brother to achieve to our highest potential, and only now I began to appreciate the drive and passion that he instilled in both of us. I thought back to the time when I was 6, and my dad asked me if I wanted to join the wrestling team, and not really knowing what it was, I said sure. After the first practice I wanted to quit, and was constantly complaining about it. My dad told me to stick with it and said I might end up liking it. Now, 10 years later I was wrestling on the varsity team at 150 pounds and was one of the 14 starters. When I was younger I never could really appreciate what my dad did for me and how he pushed me. If it hadn’t been for him, I never would’ve been able to see the final product of my work, and never would’ve known what I could’ve been. His drive and constant need for improvement is what helped my brother and I to become the people we are today, and I am thankful everyday that he was always there to support me through my childhood. I continue to stare into the logs which were now a smoldering pile of orange coals. They hissed and popped, and gave off just enough heat to keep us outside. We sat outside until the fire fully died out. We put out the last remaining coals, and headed in for the night.