Family Camping

Have just returned from a great ritual- the family camping trip. It is at the same time ridiculous and glorious. How goofy to bring duplicates of all your home conveniences, spend days preparing them, packing them, then unpacking and setting them up, packing them back up, filthy, and taking days to return the household to normalcy.

I have never escaped this thought in all my forty-some years of doing it. Yet, it is always fun, provided it isn't cold and raining. The outdoors invigorates. The sights and smells refresh. The quiet soothes. The family hilarity, particularly that provided by children, is joyous. The campfire mesmerizes. The appetite is piqued by the outdoor air. A bell on a buoy rings out the movement of the water, energizing. The wild animals join us, surprize us. There is room to get away from the group, and time to be close as well, breathing one another. There always ends up being a lot of stories.

It is a great chance to cleanse the palate, as it were, from the daily routines. Like coffee beans at a perfumery, or rice at a twenty course ryokan banquet.

Papa and I have begun to invest some of our time in things like this which we feel so strongly enable/create good in the world. Retreat centers and state parks, for example. We are daydreaming spending a month at such a campground, volunteering in ways that will enhance the experience for others as it has enhanced our lives over the years. In our daydream, our grandchildren, reaching sufficient age to be a real help to others, would join us in this industriousness. Our children as well, as their busy lives allow. It was a wonderful camping trip.