present

Friends from Rhode Island visited last week. They stayed at Beth's house. But we all wanted to gather with them. So we decided to camp for the weekend. Three families. Nine children. Nine adults. And did I mention, one blue racer snake? But that is for another post.

I love camping.
I love awakening because of sunlight edging the tent.
The bird songs and chatter beckon morning activity much more hospitably than an electronic alarm.
Campside laundry seems to wave an invitation of hospitality and play.
Fireside conversations are among my favorite.
Pancakes, grilled food, smores, among other things are delightful.
Rain's dance on the tent provides a comfort in sleeping that surprises me. (Of course, it always rains when we camp).

More than any of that, though, the pace of camping draws me.
It is the very rhythm that forces and allows one to separate
from everything else and simply be.
You become more present to each other, to the elements,
to simple tasks, to the moments.
I love the idea of waking up to stir the fire
and provide a cozy place for people to gather, get warm and converse.
I may be crazy but it seems like food
tastes better while camping,
perhaps because often so many hands are used to prepare it.

I like the freedom from distractions.
yes, one might be distracted wondering if your kids have wandered too far away.
But it's different out in the woods then in a neighborhood,
even in the best of neighborhoods.
It seems right to engage in life in this way at this pace.
Part of me feels restored and realigned while camping because it allows me to be present to God and people in a different way.
I like it.
I guess that's all I'm trying to say.


Oh, and, that first really cool picture, I stole it from Karen. I hope that's okay Karen.