Sunday morning, I woke up to tiny raindrops falling onto the white canvas roof of my camper. The sounds of nature penetrated the screen walls behind my head. The wind, barely moving, pushed our tiny home back and forth. I heard the dog trot around in the wet grass, and I heard other campers start to stir in their campsites.
Dylan came back to the camper, from his Nanny’s, and I welcomed him back into the warm blankets. I then, grabbed my camera, slid on my sandals, and opened the door to find an old face escaping the sprinkles under my canopy.
“Good morning, Bud!”
I took full advantage of the refreshingly cool wet morning. I hopped into Bob, the ATV, and drove around the RV park, taking in all of God’s handiwork.
It was a good weekend, and a fun night before, but Clayton was coming to pick me up today and I have to pack up. I reflected, as I snapped, the fun and fellowship I had experienced the last two days. Dylan and I learning to play Farkle, and then teaching my highly competitive friend, Luisa to play over a glass of wine. Watching “The Goonies”, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Laughing with the girls until our bellies hurt, around the campfire. Dancing without a care at the pavilion.
The girls zipped through the trails on the ATV’s and Dylan and took a little ride, until I turned and found a spider on his shoulder. Trail riding complete!
Limonatas, brisket, pancakes, and homemade pickles were on the menu. Megan devoured her Nanny’s taco bake, she whipped up in her airstream.
Dylan took in some fishing, comic book drawing, and UNO. He hung out in the camper most of the weekend, and yesterday when we arrived home, he was running a fever of 101.5. I was so frustrated with his lack of enthusiasm while we were camping, but now, in retrospect, I realize he was probably not feeling well. Therefore, the camper was a refuge for him from the heat, a place for him to retreat to. For that, I am thankful.
It’s fun to ride around, and see how people have decorated their campsites. Some live out there, and some just visit home a few days a week. Some, use it as a retreat from life, and some just use it as a place to sleep when they aren’t fishing. That dock looks like a good place to drink a cup of coffee and read a book. I can’t say I blame them for wanting to spend so much time out here.
I had a great time trying out the camper, but I am so happy to be home. I took a three hour nap yesterday afternoon, in the air conditioning, after I washed the weekend off. I’m not a camper, I must confess. Thank goodness, the camper is not totally a tent.