Outside mornings.

I have a favorite thing when it comes to camping. It doesn’t really have a name but I’ll call it outside mornings.

 

We had an outside morning on last Friday. It was beautiful start to the day. We were sitting outside with our coffee and tea. There was a slight chill yet in the air but nothing a soft flannel shirt and slippers can’t fix.

 

I think it’s a combination of the smells and sounds. In the site next to us, those folks were in a tent and their fire was going already. I love the smell of a campfire and if there’s bacon simmering in a cast iron skillet, even better. Close your eyes for a moment … I bet you can smell that bacon.

 

For sounds, well honestly, there are very few and that feels amazing. Birds mostly, some crickets, a few leaves rustling here or there, children in the distance with an occasional scream of delight (or cry). A car door, maybe a car going by. And voices. I can’t make out the conversations, but I imagine it’s important stuff like one egg or two, over easy or over well and did you remember to bring the ketchup.

 

We haven’t had the chance to do this yet on this trip. It was the first morning we’ve been able to sit outside. Our last site for example was in a gully and there had been a lot of rain at night. Our site was muddy and wet the whole time we were there.

 

Mango learned to love camping as a boy scout (I really did. I can remember having some epic campouts where we slept on the ground, froze to death, heat beyond belief, ate really bad food, rain, bugs, etc. Yep, epic times). I imagine his 10 or 11 year old mind was just as inquisitive then as it is now (inquisitive about what?). Our family did some camping too and it usually accompanied a canoe trip on a long weekend. As I watch those tent campers, only now can I appreciate all the work it must have been for my Mom to get ready to go and then again when we got home.

Our adventures here included chasing the perfect waterfall so there was hiking and lots of pictures taken. More on that in the next post. Oh, and a tunnel too.

Stumphouse Tunnel

 

Edna continues to be a perfect companion as we work our way around the Carolinas. We may be traveling in what tent campers call luxury, but we’re all the same during that morning cup of coffee sitting outside and listening.

 

-June