Campout

 Life is about adventures.

Matter of fact, I’ve decided to rename problems “adventures”.

Lately, I’m up to my ears in adventures!

When Hurricane Ian took my island home, I found myself without shelter. 

What to do? 

I reserved a campsite. 

Problem solved. 

Adventure starts.

Senior discount and paperwork finished, I found my gravel campsite beside a gator waterway.  

For the first time in my life, I would camp alone. 

This was exciting and scary at the same time. 

In other words — adventure!

I found myself sandwiched between massive trees, mobile homes and pop-up campers.

Set-ups were elaborate. Glistening lights, rugs and picnic tables, even little signs stating “Gus and Marie — Retired and Lovin it!” 

No doubt about it…I was out-classed.

I tried not to draw attention to the odd little old lady setting up camp by herself .  I worked quickly connecting plastic poles for my kiddie tent.

Yup…you got that straight. I have a kiddie tent, a sweet little “Junior Adventurer” number. It cost ten dollars.  It fits me fine.  It helps to be short. 

I parked my car in front of my new tent home.  No sense in drawing attention to my solo kiddie tent. 

Camp set up, I resolutely settled my baseball cap on my head and took off to hike.  The circus of campers was astounding!  

We were all jammed under tropical brush next to a shimmering waterway sporting alligators and egrets.  

I took an inventory of everyone’s camping accommodations.

Amazing! 

Colorful flags, twinkling lights, table clothes on tables …sizzling grills.

I felt like I stumbled into an exotic village. 

…And stumble I did as darkness draped about me.  With darkness came flickering fires and fireside faces.  

This was mesmerizing!  I walked in camouflaged silence.

I’m always a silent observer on my adventures.

When stars were penetrating the palm leaves, I crawled into my nylon home. 

The evening was just beginning. 

I measured my tent moments by birds.  First came a whippoorwill, then an owl in the thick of midnight. 

By three a.m. a single tiny bird’s chirp was high, and hopeful. 

I couldn’t help but crawl out to gaze at a full, hazy moon.  

The moon was full of mystery hanging there behind palm trees and Spanish moss.

Six a.m. brought a blithe conversation between birds who felt they had to call out the sunrise. 

By seven, bird volume turned up, joined by motor hum and neighbor chatter.

I crawled out of my tent a different person, I think…

a stronger person,

an adventurer. 

Do you have problems?

Consider them adventures. 

This sleepy adventurer loved camping. 

Problem solved.