When willing people gather to bring nature onto their normally comfortable lives, it’s called camping. We spent some time getting domed in trees far reaching into the heavens and stars, highlighting our very bold campfires, daring to face mosquitoes with tents covering the best array of meals.
We sat outside, building friendships and funny memories, sharing our ghost stories and favorite songs. I’m fearful of heights and unstable on board walks, but guided by the hands of gentle men and women, I walked the beach and got my taste of true summer joy.
Being with members of an old friends tribe; yet, being welcomed into this blessed group won me over to forgo our hotel, and someday making my bed under the falling stars.
When sharing space with others claims our weekend, we learn how much about them we never knew. Asking questions is a game we played, I’m always brightened by what people have to say.
Banding together with nature and loving friends, summer winds and long lazy days whisked my mind to how our ancestors joined together and forged their new homes in rugged wilderness.
We were “glamping” and had the finest grilling stations and bug-free tents. Imagining how it was to survive long ago made my life in this century feel like heaven. I am happily sleeping in my cool fresh home tonight, remembering the fun happenings on our very lovely modern-day outdoor adventure.
