hristmas Eve. The nativities I visited contrast of darkness punctured by light， and in<br > with my wife and her family were trian- the shadows we saw human figures in clusters<br > gular log constructions perched along with appendages of children， extended family<br >the levee s edge. One hundred and sixty in all. members， and close friends.<br >We had hoods and stocking caps pulled over The bonfire construction begins late in Octo-<br >our ears， disguising us as much as the light mist ber when families and friends cut trees from<br >and darkness. The incline to reach the levee s their woods， strip off the branches on tailgates<br >peak was steep， as these man-made mounds of trucks， measure and saw the logs into sec-<br >had been constructed to keep floodwaters at tions， haul them by flatbed， load after load， to<br >bay， the neighborhoods safe a hundred yards the edge of the levee where larger logs， used for<br >from their base， and not as walkways for folks the base， are pulled up the slope by four-<br >on holiday. Two days of wispy rain and tem- wheeler and tractor， while those for the frame<br >peratures in the forties (enough in the South to are hand-carried by two or more women and<br >call a white Christmas) made the ascent pre- men. The top pieces that will be placed later， by<br >carious--that， and a few cups of hurricane ladder， are brought in by children who treat<br >punch， them like stars. The logs are then placed， end<br > Barges， hidden by darkness， ran the Missis- over end， to create box upon box of diminish-<br >sippi and sounded their fog horns at seven to ing size， spiraling upwards until pyramids<br >signal the bonfire builders， who distinguished twenty-five feet tall begin to take shape， each<br >themselves by emerging with lighters and one composed of hundreds of parts--not an<br >matches to strike the first tiny flares into the afternoon s work， but two months of week-<br >night and ignite torches they would use to set ends， and the builders claim that their struc-<br >the levee ablaze. The diesel-soaked logs flashed， tures are sturdy as houses， and that on Christ-<br >and for a second， seemed to lift off the ground mas morning one can look out the window and<br >as if they were fiery chariots heaven-bound， still see them smoldering all along the high<br >but it s nothing that sacred: it s a celebration for ridge.<br >children who know nothing of death， who be- A century-old tradition passed down through<br >lieve they re lighting the way through the fog generations naturally inspires attempts to make<br >and mist for Saint Nicklus. This is Lutcher， one s bonfire unique， and while most take the<br >Louisiana. Christmas Eve in the South. typical shape， there are variations--Cajun cab-<br > We wandered to the canal that separates levee ins and deer stands， staircases， log houses， oil<br >from water to escape the great heat and stray rig towers manned by plastic Santa Clauses.<br >bottle rockets， the crackling of cane that adorns Some are covered in cane that pops when ig-<br >many structures， and this is what we saw: the nited， others strung with firecrackers whose<br >obvious line of bonfires that began with the gunpowder explosions send a succession of<br >closest--flames stretched to the black sky thirty echoes across the water and back. Banners hang<br >feet or more--and moved to seemingly smaller from a few with football team logos， proclama-<br >structures until the burning logs diminished tions for Jesus， or someone not as well known，<br >into campfire sizes， and then luminaries， and but when the fires are lit， they re caught in the<br >then candlelight， until the capacity to see even updraft， flapping and curled， sending bits of<br >night fires failed. Yet we lingered longer and burning cloth into the air like fiery moths. And<br >endured the cold， resisted the temptation to no matter the cold shape of individual struc-<br >return to the heat， until our eyes adjusted to the tures， all these yuletide offerings are reduced to<br >