© Aron Hsiao / 2016
My daughter has been asking, over and over again, when we can go camping. So I’ve told her that we can go this summer and have acquired a tent and some over-the-fire grilling skewers.
But it didn’t seem like a good idea to head straight for the mountains for our first outdoor camping adventure, so this week we’re doing a dry run in the backyard, on the lawn.
As luck would have it, we’ve picked a reasonably chilly, windy night with off-and-on sprinkles to begin. My senses tell me that it’s simulating the high country camping experience quite well, when all is said and done. The air inside the tent is bracing and the leaves haven’t stopped rustling.
With the kids zipped into their sleeping bags and asleep to the left and right, it’s just me that’s awake, hearing the sounds and feeling the sensations of nature.
— § —
It’s been a long time since I did this. Over the course of our marriage there was one night of sleeping in the backyard, but it was a still, hot night on which fireworks were expoloding in the background, and the tension was already very thick.
This, tonight—is different. It feels like camping once again, and I’ve not been on a proper mountain campout since 2001. That’s fifteen years!
— § —
So, the days are passing. A wedding here, a divorce there, a job here, a car repair there. Life goes on.
The leaves, they are rustling everywhere outside the tent.
This is my life, that I am living right now, for better or for worse. I suppose it is for both, at the same time.
And it’s another Monday tomorrow.
And in the meantime, backyard camping, and a chance for me to actually feel something of nature once again. It is quite beautiful.