Sunday, August 29, 2010
This weekend I kicked off the damn boots and allowed myself to enjoy the beauty around me. Beauty was right in front of my face. In fact, it’s been here all along.
We went camping on Friday night. An event I would typically avoid with many excuses ready to go.
I don’t sleep well when I camp.
I’m too tired after a long work week.
Parker will get up too early.
It’s not worth the trouble to get everything ready for one night.
I have things to do.
What if I have to poop?
And so on and so on.
Uncharacteristically, I thought, “Yeah, let’s go. Let’s do it.” I figured, it was one of our last chances before colder weather starts.
We even encountered several obstacles that tried to keep us from going up the mountain.
Our new air mattress that was delivered, according to UPS records, at 1:00 pm on Thursday at our porch was stolen. Richard would get home later than usual from work on Friday because he was waiting for parents to pick up their kids from school after a field trip. I was tired, so tired, after a day that didn’t seem to give up. I forgot to pack wine.
Still, we persisted.
And I am so glad we did.
We live right at the base of part of the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Only moments away, we are on a dirt road, climbing up, up, up. We set up camp at just above 10,000 feet next to a little stream, good for splashing, “fishing” (pretend play, people), and hunting for toadstools.
In the morning, as we drove down, down, down the mountain, we kept the windows open, better to feel the breeze and smell the pine. I had a wildflower in my hair, sitting atop my ear, given to me by my son. Only a few times, we passed others in their jeeps and trucks. Here and there, a peace sign flashed out the window in greeting to us.
Summer is still holding on, and we’re not letting go.