By Beth Brownsberger Mader
My little family went camping recently. We’re lucky that we reside next to forest that is national and free campsites. We liked hearing the wind within the high pines and also the break of your fire with the panting of two exhausted dogs, and my better half performing bad soft-rock tracks from the 1970s. We consumed s’mores in place of supper, like we had been 5 years old, and snuck marshmallows into the pups, because we’re good-bad parents that are pet. The four of us slept within our old raggedy tent, actually resembling snug-bugs-in-rugs, hunkered straight down for an night that is unexpectedly cold. The morning that is next gloriously fresh, smoky and sunny. We hiked once again before packing up for house.
Just about any camping journey has its “sit very long, talk much” segment; my spouce and I had ours the initial time, rocking backwards and forwards gradually inside our hammocks, sipping orange juice.