The Pup

“Who needs a house up on a hill

When you can have one on four wheels
And take it anywhere the wind might blow
(…)
Just hang a map and throw a dart
And pray to God the engine starts and go.

(…)

Parking lots and county lines
Countin' mile marker signs
Where the buffalo and antelope
(…)
One more postcard for the wall
Off in our home sweet home away from home”

I dreamed of camping in The Rockies since my first trip there, to Vail, CO in 1999. You can say that was a century-old dream. As such.

We were lucky enough to move Out West in 2010 and we tent camped in various places, but not as much as I wanted to. I was too scared to. Too scared of bears and too scared of the random (and frequent) rattlesnake.

In the summer/ fall of 2015, we bought a camper, for added security and because neither one of us was done camping. We called it “The Pup”. That was really, its name – “The Wolf Pup” from Forest River. 

The Pup

We bought it for one feature only: it had an enormous window right in front of the dining table. We dreamed of having many meals on that table while watching the wildlife and the vegetation. And that, we did.

That window!! 

My mom made us a cross-stitched framed “poster” to hang in it. It felt like home. If you’ve never owned a camper or used one, it’s like having a vacation home anywhere you want to be. Wherever you go, you change your landscape, your view, but you’re still home. Like you never left. No need to sanitize your bathroom when your hotel is your own house.

Mom's cross-stitch 

We kept a “Wolf Pup Journal” in it and we both wrote about every stay in The Rockies, and then across America, and then around NC and VA. Here are some samples from our adventures.

“First trip ever together, in a camper. Beautiful fall colors. Temps dropped to 65F. (…) The campground is full of mooing cows. Love it! (…) Our favorite meal was the baked potatoes. Just wrapped in foil and cooked in the fire. Tonight we’re having pancakes – just fried dough in the flat iron press. The fall is gentle and gorgeous, but it is bitter cold at night. Grateful for the camper! It’s been a no phone and no internet kind of weekend.” (me) – September 2015 - Diamond Campground in Spanish Fork Canyon, UT

“As I write this we are sitting in our camp chairs, relaxing, enjoying the sound of the river, the falling yellow and orange leaves. And the sounds from the river.” (Aa.)

“This is a gorgeous campground – very woodsy and shaded. We’re camping by The Salt Creek and the mountain stream song is soothing. It’s late in the year but it’s 80F+ today. So peaceful.(…) A deer came and drank from the creek this morning, over breakfast. ” (me)  – September 2015 – Ponderosa Campground on Nebo Loop, UT

“Our site has lots of sap on everything, from the towering pine trees above us. Yesterday, around 5PM, we were having a snack and Aa. saw a deer outside our dining seat window – so close, just outside - eating trees.” (me) – June 2016 - Timpanogos Campground, Alpine Loop, UT

“Reason #1 why we bought a camper was so that we could feel safe to camp off the grid, meaning not in a campground. So, this is our first try. (…) We picked a pasture by the side of the river, on the right of the road. (…) There is not much to be heard, other than the occasional breeze through the tall grasses and the stream right in front of us. There is a rare car, and lots of close gun shots. I am thinking of the Old West: we have a shovel waiting right next to the firepit, gun shots, tall grasses, a big, cloudless, tall sky above us. Old and New West at its best.” (me) – August 2016 - off the grid in Diamond Fork Canyon, UT

“This time the campground is a ghost town! Maybe two other couples and the camp host. I love camping in the fall for this reason: quiet and uncrowded. We didn’t forget anything this time, … but we needed more duct tape! Always can use more of that!” (me)

“Shortly after arriving we had a short thunderstorm. We sat under the awning and read. After the storm, we shot the water on leaves then went for a hike. Had a lot of trouble keeping the fire going today.” (Aa.)  – October 2016 - Cherry Campground – Spanish Fork, UT

The West and The East

“We’re above 8000F and my heart can tell you that. I don’t have enough air, and my throat feels strangled, but the view from up here is stunning! We’re parked atop this huge pasture covered in yellow daisies. Bugs, butterflies and birds hover over it in droves. Then, in the way distance, the Nebo range stands tall and green with hints of red rock. It’s probably one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever camped in.” (me) – July 2017 -  Blackhawk Campground on Nebo Loop, UT

“After lunch we explored the river behind our site. The river’s so full and as loud as a torrential downpour. The whole weekend we felt like it was raining outside, but it was just the river. The site and the entire campground are the most forested that we’ve ever camped in. (…) On Saturday, I painted a campfire in the woods and a lotus flower. We napped. At night, Aa. learned to play Macau and he loves it.” (me) – July 2017 – Tanners Flat Campground, Little Cottonwood Canyon, UT

The past-times

“The trip Eastward started yesterday. We spent the first night on the road at The Moab KOA. It’s a lovely, quiet place on Highway 191. (…) Gypsy is still a bit scared, but he is better by the hour. He’s scared when the heater comes on and when he sees other people outside our window.” (me) – October 2017 – Moab KOA, UT

“We drove on Historic Route 66 the whole way from New Mexico. I felt like such a hippie. Oklahoma is humid and hot.” (me) – Elk City KOA, OK

The KOAs

“The first camping trip since we moved back to NC. We were reminded very quickly on our first night, that we can no longer camp in the summer in NC. The heat, humidity and bugs made it impossible to be outside or have a pleasant campfire. (…) We hiked, we napped, I wrote, we read and it’s been fun to do something else than be in the house.” (me) – Holly Point Campground, Falls Lake, NC

“After getting the pup situated, I checked in with the campground host. I then delivered firewood to friends (…). It’s cold and rainy, so we did hot dogs and beans on the stove. It was a delicious dinner.” (Aa.) – November 2018 – Camping with friends in Hanging Rock State Park, NC

The food gets a different dimension out there 

“The site we have is right on Smith Mountain Lake. (…) It’s been great to look at this huge lake, hear the geese and crickets sing their song, hear the waves splash the shore when a boat goes by, see the huge fish jump out of the water for a sip of real air. (…) Surely every trip is a lesson and a memory for both of us.” (me) – August 2019 – Camping with friends in Camp Kilowatt, Union Hall, VA

People buy campers for various reasons. Some buy them to have them as their home. We bought ours to find peace in The Rockies. Off the grid. When we moved back East, the landscape, the weather did not allow for the same wilderness and getting-lost-ness that we had experienced in The West. It was time to say goodbye. And we did. This week. We’re left full of longing, but happy that we had these four years of learning and communing with nature in a way you can’t do from your couch.

Good bye, Pup! We both hope you can make many more people 

feel at home and safe, like you did with us!  

Never understood whether the rainbow starting in my home was supposed to be a good omen or not: Driving back East to NC we drove for a whole day into a downpour which became a tornado at one point. As we were getting closer, the rainbow dumped into our Pup. At that time, with the Utah house sold and the NC one not bought yet, The Pup was our only home. 

Back to Nature

We've replaced the dry, Rocky Mountains air of the desert with the watery, hot, buggy and muggy air of The South. The kind of air you see in a photo, like a light white film between all the other elements. It's material ...

We've replaced the snowy rocky peaks with miles and miles of lakes, hiding underneath green lush brush, behind tall, straight-up, squeaky pines …

We've replaced the multi-color carpet of summer flowers on mountain pastures with tons and tons of mushrooms from so much rain and humidity …

We've replaced the harsh, hot red rocks with soft, wet, green moss …

We've traded the million star-studded sky, a glorious carpet in the dark night of the desert, for the hundreds of earthly sparks of the lightning bugs over the thick, green, forest floor … Traded wishing upon a falling star for wishing upon a firefly …

We've traded scarceness of the swirly and crooked junipers, the fragrant and harsh to the touch sage, the cactus for the abundance of pine trees, stocky and bulky oaks, for sub-tropical fig tree-like thickets, and so many more species of plants, bushes, and trees than I care to remember …

We've replaced the dry and hard hidden desert trails winding up and down mountain cliffs with clearly pathwayed pine needle-covered trails winding around lakes …

We've replaced the trout in the rare stream with turtles in every lake that we walked by …

We've replaced the cool night breeze and cross-winds in our camper, from both windows being left open at night, with the noisy air conditioning unit. Windows tightly shut this time – no escape from humidity otherwise, not even at night …

We've traded the desert dust in and on our shoes with itchy bug bites and burning welts …

But the beans tasted just as sweet and the sleep was just as deep as ever. Just like with every camping trip before, our batteries are recharged, and we're turning back to our routines with the same amount of peace and gratefulness and awareness that life could be simpler and yet so rich.

We're camping in NC. It's definitely not anything like camping in The Rockies. But that's just it: it's just a different experience, and by no means a lesser one. This is what here is now, and we're taking it in wholly: the breathing of the land, the vibrations of everything that's alive and ready for a new year in the wilderness, the closeness to quiet, and God is still the same, in whatever dialect, and whatever the latitude.

If you want to know what's important, what is really, truly important in this world, go and speak to a tree, or a hill, or a star, or a star-like bug. Or better yet: speak not at all, but listen. Get lost and lose judgment. Just take everything in. Let nature in and allow her to awaken your senses. There is so much to learn! I can promise you it will not always be comfortable, but it always be worth it.

Click the picture for the whole album of the latest camping trip, exploring Holly Point Campground and Durant Nature Preserve in NC

Eastward Bound: UT to NC – Day One – Moab, UT. Red Rocks

This is the second entry of a multi-entry series.

• First installment: On the Road Again: Going East Intro (http://wander-world.blogspot.com/2017/10/on-road-again-going-east-intro.html)

This is the map of our journey with the stops on the way. And yes, we are actually going through Texas, which is something I told myself I would never get to do ... 

Off we are truly now on the way to NC. This is the second time I am doing this trip, between UT and NC, and this is Aa's third time. Today was our shortest day, a little over 3 hours of driving.

I drive alone in the car, except for Gypsy-The-Cat, and there is lots of time to think, reflect and ponder upon everything, really. We have made the trip between Spanish Fork and Moab numerous times in the past seven years, so today I had plenty of time to think back of all the memories. People we took the trip with, spots on the way where we stopped for lunch, camping, or just to shoot this beautiful place. Turns in the road off to other places we visited. It's all sad, and good, and grateful. I keep wondering when I will see these places again, if ever at all.

It's a gorgeous time of the year to be making this trip – not too cold (except for nighttime), not too hot either. Today, we drove East and South with the sun blinding us the whole time. It's a warm, Indian summer kind of weather – my absolute favorite. The leaves are not all the way turned in Moab, but what are, they are screaming yellow.

These are just a very few of the many pictures I shot while driving behind our camper, and trying to keep the wheel from throwing me at the cement walls lining the winding mountain highways.

Our 'Last Supper' last night was Indian food, at Tadka, in Payson. You locals, make sure you keep them in business. Kindest people ever and some of the best food! 

Good bye, beautiful rocky cliffs! 

Our camper ('The Pup') approaching red rocks. 

Entering Moab, one (maybe) last time ... 

The desert in the fall. 

We made it to our first KOA (ever, together, and on this trip). 

Our caravan at our campsite

Our view for lunch, from our camper - towards the rocks of Moab. 

In a long sigh, I am bidding a melancholy 'good bye' to the gorgeous state that has been our home for the past seven years. 

Echos of Autumn

"There is no one here!", she said.
"Only you and me.", he said.

Have Wheels, Will Travel

 

As I write this, this is my view - our backyard for the weekend: Ponderosa Campground - Nebo Loop, UT

I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I would ever own a camper. I remember, growing up in a block of crumbling communist flats, that we had a neighbor who had one, parked crooked, right next to our playground. It was caged in in a makeshift garage, so "the gypsies" won't hurt it, behind chain-link fencing. If memory serves correctly, it was tiny and rusting and leaning onto one side, and I don't remember ever seeing it move or anyone ever so much as opening it. Looking back now, I don't even know if they even had a bathroom in there. But to me, the lonely camper always meant a world of possibilities. Oh, how cool it would be to just hook it up to your car and take it away in beautiful places, and just live there, for a day, week, or even longer! Taking in nature, and being free of rents, landlords, city utilities ... What a heaven!

As a child, you dream a lot. And you envision magical stories about everything outside your own reality. As an adult, all that is crushed by the harsh, cruel hand of "reality" and things come more into the dreaded focus. You start thinking you can't afford it, you can't afford the insurance, or you'd rather buy shoes, books, rose bushes for your yard with the money. Then, the maintenance, and so forth.

But then you marry this man who grew up with one. And all he wanted to do, all his adult life, is to recreate his childhood camping trips in Canada. And he pushes you out there and convinces you of the fun to be had! Sometimes dreams choose us, you know. And after all, when it's about nature, running away and leaving the world behind, albeit for a weekend, I don't need that much convincing, either.

Maybe our WolfPup (the name of the model we got and its official family name) deserved a blog entry on our first outing, last weekend. But sometimes you need to let the raw experience settle a little before you know what you want to leave behind from it.

I have been camping for years in a tent. And in my adult years, I thought "Oh, camping in a camper is similar to tenting, except you get a bigger tent and the bears won't eat you while you're sleeping". But, boy, was I wrong!

There is not much similarity between a camper and a tent, besides the fact that they're both portable. Camping in a camper, I think, is similar to having a vacation home, with almost all the perks, and conveniences of one: all the right "facilities" for cooking, cleaning, playing, sleeping and the likes. The bonus is that you get to choose your landscape and your neighbors with every trip.

But boy, do you pay for that bonus! The amount of awareness it requires is amazing - and I am lucky to just reap the benefits from it without much work on my own, because my husband is a hands-on camper owner. The buttons, the pipes, the tanks, the chemicals, the tricks of leveling and the reasoning behind it all - I am blissfully unaware of it! I used to be nosy, and wanted to know how everything works, so I will never be stranded nor feel helpless. But now, I am just enjoying having Aa. to make it all comfortable for us. And it's fun watching him, too, as it all seems easy and second nature to him.

We have pretty much every comfort of home, right here with us. A fridge to keep our grub cold and fresh, a stove to cook a "real" breakfast and make Turkish coffee in the morning, a bed with "real" linens and an honest-to-goodness comforter (I swear this thing will work in sub-zero temps!), a heater to keep us warm, with a thermostat, even, so we can make sure we're not "too warm", really. Even a flushing toilet!

Although it's really tempting to just live in the camper when we go out for the weekend, we still enjoy the outdoors and feel like we are camping, too. We still make a fire pit fire, and we still cook our dinners on it. We still smell like bacon when we come back home! We put up our camping chairs and take short cat naps, although we do take longer ones, after lunches in the "real" bed, too.

We hike during the day, and shoot (think Canon, not Smith & Wesson) the mountains, creatures and vegetation all around us. We are tuned into the wild, during our waking hours.

For the past couple of weekends, we camped in non-crowded campgrounds (fall weather helps!), with no reception for internet or cell phone. And it's been a blessing. Last weekend, when we were away from the world for 2 nights and a full day, we both felt like we had been on vacation for two weeks. It's amazing how taxing and energy draining it is for our brains to plug into "electronics" 24/7. With no tv, facebook, email and google news, we had only nature, each other and old fashioned card games to rely on for passing the time.

This weekend, we're even further away from the world, on Nebo Loop National Scenic Byway, in Ponderosa Campground. We're right on Salt Creek, and although the temps are in the low 80's, it feels nice and crisp, up here under the shade of maples and hardwoods and pines . The stream is soothing my stressed out brain ... There is something about running water hitting rock that's just hypnotic, you know?!

The colors around us are a rainbow from fiery red (the maples) all the way to crude green (the ponderosa pines). We're sipping our drink, listening to the last cricket of the summer and waiting for time to pass till our next meal (lunch).

I love camping in the fall the best! The light is so soft and inconsistent throughout the day. You can never move, and shoot the same bush all day and you'll think you shot the whole forest just because the light will hit it differently every half hour.

The campgrounds are quieter in the fall, too - more campers that keep to themselves than tenters that are 12 year old and finally free to shout. The birds' song is more tired, as are the crickets and cicadas. It gets colder sooner, which makes it for early dinners and quicker fires. We're on the lookout for woolly worms to tell us about the winter, and we marvel at the billions of shapes of various leaves as well as millions of shades of yellows and reds.

Time will stretch again, for the weekend, and we'll feel like 24 hours are 78, we hope! There is no cell potential for ringing, no facebook stream to read, no tv to switch on ... Just a couple of magazines, a book and our journals to fill up.

I read once that the dog breathes 100 times in a minute and lives 16 years, while a turtle breathes 3 times in a minute and lives well into their 100's. Here's for a slower pace of life, and more days like these, when we can breathe slower and deeper, eat less, watch and listen more, have no purpose other than wondering and wandering, where we can check out from the daily routine and build towards our 100 year of living potential. 

One thing I know for sure: our camper's meant for pulling. It will not look desolate behind no chain-link fence! 

 

The winter doesn't seem too scary, does it?!

Fire, Cheap Beer and Butterflies

" I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes." (e. e. cummings)

That, right there, pretty much summarizes my camping craving and my camping trips.

Last year, we didn't go camping. And let me tell you: I am still mourning that predicament.

This year, we're planning for several trips, but we got at least one in before the summer leaves us, on Hobble Creek Canyon, right above our house.  Mostly.

Here's the story of that weekend, in pictures that speak louder than I could. 

There is something esoteric about a camp fire. Something metaphysical and deeper than the regular human realm, that projects your mind into deep thought, looking for even deeper meaning, just like ocean waves or sunsets. We have a fire-pit at home, but we almost never use it. The fire in the woods, wrapped up in trees, loneliness and cicadas' noise is what our summer dream is all about

   

 The butterflies were insane this year! So many species and sizes and colors and they were everywhere ... When we crossed the river, we almost had to step on them to be able to step on the rocks to carry us over to the other side.

 

... and this is what I mean: butterflies on the rocks in the river. My favorite spot to camp is by a stream. There is nothing more soothing than falling asleep with the sound of the water hitting the hard rock - the most perfect music ever written ... We were lucky enough to find this spot this year, and although the campground is fairly small, we shall be back - for the stream, and the quiet, and the butterflies ...

 

This log reminded me of a Texas longhorn - right?!  

 

I have never camped in a spot where there were so many bugs! Just all sorts of bugs, but mostly, these red ones. In Romania, we call them The Lord's Roaches, and you can't squish them, because it's a sin. I didn't kill them on purpose, for sure, but they were so many, like a blanket on the ground where we laid our tent, that some of them fell as victims, I am sure. They're beautiful and do no harm at all.

 

   

The food - of course, the food! We had Bush's baked beans, Hebrew National hotdogs and baked potatoes the first night. I can still taste the brown sugar in those beans! The smoke of the fire does something else to them ...

 

What can be better in the morning than fresh eggs and a side of meat - this time, Canadian bacon - fried in a cast iron skillet, like it's meant to be?! Oh, yeah, and leftover hotdog buns are great for dipping in that semi-soft yolk!

 

 

Dinner the second night was chicken, peppers, corn and potatoes in a garlic sauce, all sauteed over the fire. And eating it straight from the "pot" is how you do it at campsite ...

 

  

My drink of choice, usually, when I camp. Just pure American water-y beer is the perfect  drink on a warm summer night. Would you believe they made the can "popper" so stylish as to copy the shape of the Budweiser crown?! Attention to detail is something else ... 

 

This was just one sneak peek from our hike that weekend - it was a picture perfect day, with clear skies and not too hot. Everything is so green, so vibrant, so full of noise and color and life, even in this drought we're having ...  

That's me, dirty, sweaty and unkempt. Yep, the "real" me, at campsite. I am looking into the future, and hoping  that there is a tent in every summer that the good Lord will indulge me to have ...

We Didn’t Get Killed, After All

A different camping experience, indeed.

I remember, the first time I came to the Rockies (January of 2000), I promised myself that one day, I would come back in the summer, to camp and hike here. And here I am living here, and camping in The Rockies for the first time.

As always, camping is everything I ever want it to be: disconnecting, refreshing, re-plugging, invigorating, wandering and wondering, all at the same time. Nature never disappoints! Humans, on the other hand …

The campground we wandered to this time is only maybe 15 minutes away from our house: Whiting Campground, in Mapleton, UT. It’s so nice to live in the middle of this beauty and to have it all available at your backdoor. Pretty much literally.

The venturing out was not empty of adventure. We managed to dent our driver’s door when my husband backed the truck into a tree; he lost his watch, and both of us were attacked by flies and bees, and both of us got stung by yellow jackets. We also found out that adults can be a pain in the neck, so much more so than kids!

All weekend, the adults were the ones guilty of all the noise! They were laughing too loud, driving too loud, at all hours of the day and night, revving up the engines on motor bikes, riding horses on sidewalks until wee hours of the night, driving trash trucks, or maybe horse trailers at midnight on a Saturday through the middle of the campground, making a huge fire and partying ‘til 2 AM on a Saturday, only to return to town the same night.

We have found out that one downside of the campground being that close to town is that young people (I know! They’re the ones guilty of living it up, aren’t they?!) stop by for a fire and a hotdog, and a joint, any time of the day, or night, and then drive away. Unlike out East, this campground didn’t seem to have a gate that closes at dusk, so drifters were pretty much coming in and out as they pleased, all day and night long.

Despite these small distractions, we did manage to do everything we planned to do to disconnect and recharge our batteries: we slept in, we made fires of our own ‘til we started smelling like bacon, we hiked, we watched the moon and stars in the night sky, we read, we snoozed in on a lazy afternoon in the shade, we ate beans and dogs, like true cowboys, we made grilled dough, or “brown bears” on the open fire, like camping friends have taught me out East.

We saw hardly any wildlife at all, for some reason! They were probably hiding from the human noise! That didn’t tame down my paranoid fear of bears, however! I lived with that fear the entire 36 hours of living there!

We found out that the hot Utah summer left the river bank dry, so there was no babbling brook there. But the mountain air alone and the fresh, rusty colors of fall were enough of a backdrop for a wonderful getaway.

With all the other mishaps, of sorts, we did have a successful trip – one that is begging us back soon. After all, we didn’t get killed by the bears I was afraid of, we did not break any bones in the very steep hike we took, we didn’t get slashed into pieces by the hooligans that were having a bonfire and a wild gathering in the middle of the night, a couple of sites down from us, either. We survived it all and lived to tell the tale.

So, maybe we’ll raise the danger level next time and go off the beaten path a bit and just be one with nature alone - no campgrounds, just wilderness. Away from humans and all their array of noises… We’ll see.

It was a great trip. As the pictures can always tell.

To Find Oneself, One Must Travel – A Camping Trip in the Spring

"Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.”
(Frank Lloyd Wright)

Did you know that cardinals eat bacon? I swear they do! Got a picture to prove it!

Did you know that raccoons are so friendly as to come visit within 5-6 feet from humans and a burning fire? My dad always told me that fires scare creatures. Apparently not raccoons. Either that or the smell of food is worth the risk to them.

Did you know that oak trees have some of the most beautiful blooms in the late spring? I guess they’re always so tall and majestic, we don’t get a chance to live at “eye-level” with them, and we forget they are actually blooming trees …

I found out all these and so much more this weekend, on my recent camping trip to Kerr Lake. The lake is claimed by both VA and NC as a huge body of water lying just off of I-85 on the border of those states. The park is huge, perfect for the water sports folks, but also perfect for the more laid back campers who would like to just commune with nature for a day or two.

I have been at war with my spirit, my mind and body all year, trying to find the right track, and trying to refill my batteries. No matter what relaxation technique I have tried, it’s not getting me there. And just as Lloyd Wright says and as I have known my entire life, “nature never fails me”. Nature gives me time and space to do nothing but to listen to myself.

Awake, at night, in a tent in the middle of the woods, with waves splashing the lake shores, and owls carrying on their frightful and menacing conversations, crickets calling each other by name (thanks, A.), and lizards and frogs jumping through dead leaves just within a earshot of my tent, under a black sky full of stars and a semi-full moon you have nothing to distract you or carry you away. You’re alone, and exposed. Nothing between you and the elements but a flimsy piece of cloth. And there, “naked” and exposed, and quiet, with no distractions, you have only yourself to answer to. And you figure out a plan. Only there, I could find my peace. Only there, I could empty out my murky brain filled with disappointment and loaded with pain, clean it out, sanitize it and fill it back up with nothing but fresh air. It was like spring cleaning for my whole being.

I try to take very little of the civilized world with me when I camp, and luckily, my camping buddy did the same. He didn’t even bring a fire starter fluid. He wanted to build a fire the good ol’ way, and as you can see in the pictures, we didn’t lack fire at all.

Mohandas Gandhi says that “to forget how to dig the earth and to tend to the soil is to forget ourselves”. So is to forget how to make a fire, I believe. The most basic skill of survival in the wild. And thank you, A., for forgetting the lantern! It was in the stars, or should I say "in the moon", as it was plenty bright!

The only drawback to the whole nature experiment, is, you guessed it: humans! Humans who seem to compete with each other over who pollutes the nature more: bigger trucks, bigger campers, bigger boats and noisier too… That’s the letdown of a State Park camp ground: you get to share it with humans. And not only that: they also bring radios, and cells which go off when you least want them to. Even hair dryers.

But I could very well block off their presence, and just enjoy our stories around the fire, and the woods, and the swishy wind through the young oak leaves, and the woodpeckers, cardinals and squirrels. I could have watched them all and listened to the wind and the waves for 10 more days. I was too thirsty for it all, and the random “human made” noises were not to interfere with my healing, and they didn’t.

Even the food helped. Mainly, we fed on basic things: meats, potatoes, corn and beans, and we somehow got everything perfectly cooked by throwing everything in the fire. Not too much work, not a stove, not too much cooking, nor trash. Paper plates were added to the fire, for cleanup. So were paper cups.

I hope the Earth can say we didn’t disturb it much. I would hate it if we did. Maybe a couple of dead ants, but those happen.

I drifted away from the lake more peaceful and quieter. I even drove slower, and I came home to a nap. My skull seems to be an empty pot again, fresh and clean, ready to be filled up by whatever the springs of life have in store for me for the rest of the year. The batteries are full; and the bucket is cleansed.

One last thought came to mind while I was thinking about the getaway on my ride home: this is my parting thought for you: from William Blake:

“ To see a word in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
An eternity in an hour”.

Click here for pictures, and enjoy.