I had bug spray in my hair when I met some splendid people this weekend, and they never said a word.
We lit a sweet campfire and heard coyotes sing as loudly as I’ve ever heard. Then dogs howled and the coyotes sang some more. We counted stars, toasted friendship and marshmallows, and Googled campfire songs.
We sang a little too.
We floated down a quiet river, dried off, and floated once again.
We watched the rain dance off the front porch of our cabin, held warm mugs of coffee (tea for me) and chatted easily.
The Askew family traveled all the way from North Dakota to our little cabin in the north woods, and we’re grateful that they did.
Their son Luke and our son Vinnie turned out to be gourmet marshmallow toasters and I meant it as I sat back on my comfy camping chair, put my feet up on the warm rocks near the fire’s edge and said, “I’d like S’more.”