Sensations: gravel beneath my feet, the wind, smoke following a dance around the fire to sting my eyes and touch my hair. The rough and sandy bark of the gathered tree branches we break to toss on the flames. A fleck of ash touches my cheek: a burning brand. I've a pebble in my sandals--shake it out, shake it out!
Sights: Flames, blue-tinged at the depths and orange and yellow and disappearing as they rise. The sharp orange glow of coals, the blackened wood. Sand and grass and big soft leaves that flutter in the breeze. A blue sky that goes a deep purple-black as the day falls behind the darkened hills.
Sounds: crackle-pop, and the whispering roar of the flames. Laughter, crickets, an owl, the snap of breaking branches. The final hiss as we douse the flames, and amid sleepy murmurs of conversation, retreat for the night.