In front of the fire
Many people camp. Many others don’t. I’ve had a two year hiatus, so I’m back with a refreshed view of things.
Is it the same as being at home? I hope not. You do live in a house, right? Outside temperature equals inside temperature, when sleeping under a nylon dome. Last night was dry, so rainfall isn’t a factor (but wait until later this week). Is your bed comfortable? Let me edit that for you: is your bed firm? For sure. Even a well-meaning mattress still gets its support from the ground, and unless you sleep in mud (I hope you don’t), there is that interaction between your bones and the underlying foundation of rocks and sand.
What about the noise? In a campground? I guess it depends on the day of the week. Sunday trumps Friday. Last night there were some late arrivals, staying in one of the cabins (not camping, in my opinion). When you don’t get your fire started until after midnight, your chatter runs late. And a fire does add ambience, as long as the smoke trail blows in any other direction other than yours. You do have to sit with it until the embers die. And if you are the kind to hold a memorial service…
We have a dog, in the tent. He is convinced that the outdoors is wild, untamed and in need of his guard abilities. I was up, several times, to see how the stars were progressing across the firmament. At the moment before dawn, when sleep is most welcome, the cold touch of the ground on my toes serves to bring back the basic tenet of the tent. It’s not quite like at home.
