Camp On!

We have entered the time of the journey when the newness of travel has worn out, and as we are not traveling, but rather resting, we are learning to live as campers. While last week was a little heavy with readjusting to this, this week has led us to some nice routines. The weekend was entered with openness and spontaneity. We hadn’t reserved a campground and were pleased about that fact when we learned it would rain all weekend in western Washington. So we headed east over the mountains hoping to find some sunshine. And we did. There was some rain one night, but beyond that we had escaped a weekend of forced indoor or in tent activity. We landed around a town called Cle Elum and instantly feel in love with the area. It is horse land where Washington is still western and not so much northwestern. Filled with a community pride that is made known through it’s well kept historical buildings the town is steeped in it’s roots. We had hoped to camp in a campground called Whish Poosh, who wouldn’t want to camp somewhere with a name like that? But it was full, as were all the other official campgrounds in that stretch of road, we settled on a officially unofficial campground. It was free, a much appreciated bonus, but boasted no facilities except the port a potties randomly stationed around the treed area. We weren’t quite prepared for this type of camping, we hadn’t packed in any water and didn’t have a table to set up on. So we took our trusty filter to the river and pumped clean water into our bottles and set the grill up on the nearest stump we could find to keep it out of the kids’ reach. The drive there was a welcome reminder of the natural beauty that Washington has to offer. I have rarely seen lakes so dense with color, greens and blues mixing together to produce a palette a painter would envy. Tall timbers line the road and the mountains swaying with the wind. And once one is beyond the suburbs of Seattle and Bellevue the mountains loom overhead and the drive through the canyon lends itself to imaginings of adventures to be found.

While the campground was lovely during the day, there was a nightlife that was unexpected. We had camped in an isolated spot, hoping to save the other campers from the noise our children make waking up at night and instead were glad we have the space between us to save us from the club like atmosphere that had been transported to the great outdoors. Thumping music, hooting youngsters, and who knows what else had interrupted our little quest for a silent night and left us wondering what we had stepped into. Two nights of this later a tired family made our way back to our campground north of the city, which suddenly felt luxurious with it’s 25 cent showers, water pumps, and quiet atmosphere. I have since been contemplating how quickly we as humans can adjust our standard of living to meet our lifestyle. We are beginning to look at apartments to rent and I’ve started to wonder if anything with a sink, a bathroom, and a dishwasher won’t feel like the Ritz. I can’t even picture us in that type of life right now, I’m so caught up in the present. I just finished a chapter about the present in Annie Dillard’s book. I so often wish away the present, looking for instead the next best thing. And so, to now be living so vividly in the present, in the laughter of my children, the warm sun on my face, and the crackle of the campfire, I feel blessed. To be aware of the now, and to soak it up, enjoying or lamenting the details of the day, is what this summer has been about. We can remember the past, but we cannot stay there and we can hope for the future but we cannot see it. The present we can be in, we can see it, it is tangible, it is now. In the present we are getting ready for bed, a loved and hated ritual that all people must go through. Tonight it is loved and laughter is ringing from the tent as my husband gets the kids in their pajamas, mosquitos are taking their last bites for the night, campfires crackle around the campground, and the sun is on it’s way down. It is the evening of another day. One more day less of living ourdoors, and one more day more of building our family and loving each other. The present is rich, feeding or draining our spirits, it is where we are, we cannot be anywhere else. I am glad I am here, I am grateful for my present. And as tired as I am these days, the present is all I can handle.