Days of rain and mosquitoes and then along comes a day that makes it all worth it.
This morning the sun came out. Even better, like the helicopters in Apocalypse Now the dragonflies hatched out and swooped through the forest, killing mosquitoes. The skeeters that were left were driven away by a fresh breeze. Now we could have the best of the camping.
I needed this. At 2:00 a.m. I found the first wood tick of the season clinging to my shoulder. I removed it but for the rest of the night I constantly felt imaginary crawly things on my person.
But no matter, after breakfast, I was out walking the trails. I soon encountered a pair of mountain bikers. I had heard one playing the guitar. No expert, she decided to take it up when she retired. We compared camping notes and our children who think we are nuts. They belong to a mountain bike association that creates new trails. Not straight, I asked, and they said, of course not. If you can't expect to see a bear or something equally interesting around the next curve, what is the point?
Along the lake side, I found a teenager pencil sketching. She was eager to show me her sketchbook. We talked about techniques. "I'm not very good," she said, but I disagreed. Then I told her that it doesn't really make much difference if we are good or not. Artists truly look at nature. We see every wave, every tree, every bit of what's going on out there. It isn't the same to snap a photo. Artists take their time and get to know each leaf.
When I got back the Gaulkes had come to see us again. They've become interested in this blog and the way we use the internet.
While all this was going on, Gary was improving our camping experience some more. This time he worked on my office. The room had to bunk beds, but he took the top one out and used the mattress to make the bottom bed/sofa taller and softer. Now it is so comfortable Gary uses it, too. It has become our favorite place to read.
When we were here only two days, a chipmunk came right up to me, stood at my feet and stared. So? Where are the peanuts? I think he remembered me from last year. Yesterday, I finally found a big bag of peanuts I could afford. The chipmunks (there are four) once again have their goddess of plenty. Gary wonders what happens when I leave on Wednesday. By then we'll be out of peanuts. He worries they will storm the camper.
Late this afternoon, we were out in the canoe, circling the shore.
At Seymour's citywide rummage sale, he found an electric trolling motor for the canoe. Campers can't use gas engines on Laura Lake but these little electric motors make no noise nor wake. On windy days, we old timers struggle on the lake, but the motor is good for our aching muscles.
We checked on the loon nest. One is always on the nest, so there must be eggs. Soon, little fuzzy birds will be riding on their parents' backs.
Tonight, a campfire and brats on the grill.
So tomorrow rain is forecast. Back to reading and working on new travels. We have memories of one perfect camping day and hopes for more to come.
This morning the sun came out. Even better, like the helicopters in Apocalypse Now the dragonflies hatched out and swooped through the forest, killing mosquitoes. The skeeters that were left were driven away by a fresh breeze. Now we could have the best of the camping.
I needed this. At 2:00 a.m. I found the first wood tick of the season clinging to my shoulder. I removed it but for the rest of the night I constantly felt imaginary crawly things on my person.
But no matter, after breakfast, I was out walking the trails. I soon encountered a pair of mountain bikers. I had heard one playing the guitar. No expert, she decided to take it up when she retired. We compared camping notes and our children who think we are nuts. They belong to a mountain bike association that creates new trails. Not straight, I asked, and they said, of course not. If you can't expect to see a bear or something equally interesting around the next curve, what is the point?
Along the lake side, I found a teenager pencil sketching. She was eager to show me her sketchbook. We talked about techniques. "I'm not very good," she said, but I disagreed. Then I told her that it doesn't really make much difference if we are good or not. Artists truly look at nature. We see every wave, every tree, every bit of what's going on out there. It isn't the same to snap a photo. Artists take their time and get to know each leaf.
When I got back the Gaulkes had come to see us again. They've become interested in this blog and the way we use the internet.
While all this was going on, Gary was improving our camping experience some more. This time he worked on my office. The room had to bunk beds, but he took the top one out and used the mattress to make the bottom bed/sofa taller and softer. Now it is so comfortable Gary uses it, too. It has become our favorite place to read.
When we were here only two days, a chipmunk came right up to me, stood at my feet and stared. So? Where are the peanuts? I think he remembered me from last year. Yesterday, I finally found a big bag of peanuts I could afford. The chipmunks (there are four) once again have their goddess of plenty. Gary wonders what happens when I leave on Wednesday. By then we'll be out of peanuts. He worries they will storm the camper.
Late this afternoon, we were out in the canoe, circling the shore.
At Seymour's citywide rummage sale, he found an electric trolling motor for the canoe. Campers can't use gas engines on Laura Lake but these little electric motors make no noise nor wake. On windy days, we old timers struggle on the lake, but the motor is good for our aching muscles.
Tonight, a campfire and brats on the grill.
So tomorrow rain is forecast. Back to reading and working on new travels. We have memories of one perfect camping day and hopes for more to come.
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