Hey there Reader, From the Trail: The First Time I Held Fire There’s a specific moment I always remember. It was early fall. I had no idea what I was doing, just a cheap burner, a piece of wood, and an afternoon I thought I’d waste. The lines were too dark. My hand shook. The smell was sharper than I expected. But something inside me settled. The hum of the burner. The slow trail of smoke. The steady commitment it took to finish even one crooked leaf. It felt like meeting a part of myself I...