It’s all about people, my husband and I keep saying. We love having people over, visiting with friends, meeting new people, exchanging thoughts and ideas, and sharing food and drink.

Of course, all of that came to a screeching halt in March. After the initial shock of being caught in a pandemic, knowing it would not be over anytime soon, we retreated home like everyone else, and began to feel isolated and lonely by May, like everyone else. But we adapted, like everyone else, and sputteringly and warily reinvented how we could see people safely.

The firepit, which had been on our minds since we moved here six years ago, finally and quickly became a reality in late spring out of necessity, and it’s become our outdoor pandemic living room and mental lifesaver. The benches around it are far enough apart that we can easily invite several other couples with every couple sitting about ten feet from the next. Instead of proper glasses, we adopted papercups that we throw into the fire when done. Hand sanitizer is always at the ready, and we greet each other with elbow bumps, foot shakes, and eight-feet-apart air kisses, feeling a little silly.

We have made more fires this season than during any other time, sitting around the pit, hors d’oeuvres and drinks in hand. It is mesmerizing, magical, grounding, and so comforting to stare into the fire, bats fluttering above, with the starry night sky overhead, while flying sparks make for an impromptu firework here and there. We set jam jars with tealights around the stone walls to find our way around, while torches light the outer surround of the firepit in a large circle.

We have made the best of this deeply unsettling and unique time, and in our memories this year will forever be imprinted as the year of the firepit gathering, which we often do several times a week. What are your special memories of this unusual year?