Monday, July 29, 2013

Good morning, Camp.

It's that time of morning. It would be sunrise if I were sitting on the beach, or an open prairie, or anywhere other than this cleft of mountain half way down to the river. Six turkeys are grazing on the part of the campground where the volleyball net is set up. It gets lighter out with every moment that passes. I wonder when the sun will actually peek over the enormous fir covered ridge.

"I just saw some bear droppings!" Whispers Aunt Roxanne as she passes my tent on her way back from the bathroom. She's the only person I've seen up and about so far. Though, by the muffed sounds of eighties grunge coming from the RV across the way, I don't suppose it will be long until the rest of camp is awake.

My air mattress went flat around 4am so I've been sitting here in my camp chair, wrapped in a quilt, for almost two hours now. With all the bird calls, my brother snoring in the next tent over, and the afore mentioned RV, I can't say it's quiet. But it's as close to it as it gets here.

I am so tired. Bone tired. And the thought of all the meals that have to be prepared, the hiking, the swimming, not to mention the routine care of my two toddlers almost makes my head spin. But I can't bring myself to return to my tent. That will be forced soon enough when Zeke rolls over onto Gideon and Gideon starts wailing that "Zekey is sweeping on me, Mom! Get! Offa! Meeeeee!" I'm trying to soak up this moment.

The sky is really blue. The clouds are really white. And if I were a settler of Agness in years gone by I would be even farther removed from Seattle than I am now.

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