September 13, 2007


Growing up, we didn't take big trips to far away places on big boats or in planes. After one flight to FL to see my grandmother when I was in elementary school, I didn't fly again until I was a junior in college. My family chose to pull our home behind us when we traveled. We saw the east coast from the seats of our van (and then Suburban) with our cocker spaniel's nose pressed against the glass next to us. We ate sandwiches from the cooler and only stopped for gas before tumbling out of the vehicle with either the beach or the mountains before us. Our traveling companions, either friends or relatives, would get the campsite next to us. The week was filled with fun, campfires, hammocks, naps, walks to the beach, sitting in lawn chairs, reading and whatever adventures we could find at the place we had stopped.
Camping is like home to me. But not tent camping, oh no! We had a camper with air conditioning and a refrigerator. THAT was camping. I love listening to the rain on the roof (still one of my favorite sounds in the whole world). I love the screen door leading out to the green carpet with the awning adorned with warmly lit lanterns in the evening. I loved seeing Lady, our beloved cocker spaniel, sitting in the doorway watching everything going on around here. I love my family all together even when we drive each other crazy, which we always did by the end of the trip. Close quarters for too long can drive anyone to madness!
I went camping a few weekends ago with my parents and friend. We went to a campground that we have been going to since I was a little tyke. It was a perfect weekend of naps and shopping and bike riding and just doing nothing. That's what I love most about camping, I think. The doing nothing. And knowing that everyone else in the campsites around you is doing the same thing.

1 comment:

jessica said...

that sounds pretty much amazing.