Camping

Five families went camping in the woods the first weekend of May. It was an ordeal -- with 8 children under 3 and a campsite full of poison ivy, a weekend shadowed by the threat of rain, two mostly sleepless nights, and 5:30am mornings, and the Sunday mass some of us attended was disturbingly illicit at best.

But I miss it!

Not just for what it was, but for what it wasn't.

There was no stress, no bills, no impeding life-changing decisions, no overdrawn bank account, no auto insurance claims, no computer, no work, no cell-phones.

Just sun, and rain, green and brown and gold, fire and food and games with friends. There was the sound of birds in the morning, the smell of tents and smoke, the sight of sunlight on the children's light hair and the sweet taste of smores and the heartiness of food prepared outdoors.


It was a good weekend. And as we drove home, dirty and tired through the sunlit Sunday evening, I felt a reluctance to return to the work and stress of our life in these hard days. And I felt I wore the charm and simplicity of the weekend like a vanishing cloak that I tried to hold onto but was destined to slip away. But we showered and bathed the girls and ate a late meal in the setting sun and the spell of the outdoors lingered on till we went to bed, clean at last, on a soft mattress.

That peace is gone now, except as a memory. But I thank God today for vacations and time spent with friends, for the beauty of His creation and for the slow sunlight of days spent within it.

He is a good God.