Time for a roaring fire

After a rainy and recession-dampened Bonfire Night in my neck of the woods, I began to think wistfully of enormous medieval fireplaces, logs cut from the woods by peasants in grubby tunics, the warm glow of a winter fire. Then I thought of a poem about firewood from the 1930s: '..Apple wood will scent your room,/Pear wood smells like flowers in bloom...'

Then I found this picture, February from the Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, which says it all, from the woodcutter in the top right to the fire in the bottom left, blissfully enjoyed by one well-mannered lady in full garb and two pretty unlaced individuals for whom underwear is an optional extra. Ah, the warmth of the open fire....

Lindsay
http://www.lindsaytownsend.net