There are certain things you can count on when camping. The weather, number of insects, and temperature can vary, but some things are fixed.
For instance, it's a given that you will leave behind an essential tool. For me, it's the hammer. On an earlier trip, I pounded in tent pegs using large rocks. I creamed a couple of fingers and the tent pegs looked a little worse for it, too. I promised myself before I hit the road again, I'd make a list of things to remember. I did that, and this time as I got ready to go, I checked items off my list. The hammer, checked off the list, lays on the kitchen table at home.
In this same vein, no matter how carefully you check your toiletries bag before trudging off to the campground's shower house, you will arrive there missing something you need. Today, it was the soap. I discovered it missing when I was ready to step into the shower. Going back to the car and tent didn't seem practical. I decided instead to use very hot water.
A half hour later, when I was dressed and combed, the soap dish appeared, hiding in a corner.
Say you get a wonderful night's sleep. The ground where you set your tent had no sharp objects you'd failed to see before bedtime, and no lumpy ridges became obvious at 2 am. The temperature stayed perfect for sleeping. The motorcyclists arrived before sundown and set up by bedtime. Their machines remained quiet, not like the time when motorcycles kept arriving all night.
When you woke up, you noticed how wonderful you felt, having slept all night close to your mama, Mother Earth. Birds sang gloriously.
But your body does not communicate this feeling of well-being to your hair. For all your hair knows, you spent the night running from wild beasts. Above the body that feels peaceful, your hair sticks up like twigs, going in all directions. And before you can tame it with water and a comb, you will frighten several other campers.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment