It begins with the perfection of morning – that glimmering moment when dawn ascends the tent wall and warms your face. And it ends with a velvet darkness so deep that no city street could achieve it. In between are lungfuls of pine-laced oxygen, blood-pumping jumps into glacial lakes and picnics on mossy rocks…
Love this article Colleen…I took both my daughters camping as kids and they have great memories of catching fish and roasting marshmallows. It’s funny how they don’t remember the clouds of mosquitos..a fact of life in the outdoors in Canada’s north.
Memory is a funny thing eh, Michele? Isn’t it wonderful that they have all those great memories minus the pesky bits? The human ability to edit out the mosquitoe-y details is a lovely gift for us all.