I share this site with a lizard, who I discovered this morning on a big rock under my pillows sunning and airing after a night's sleep in my Crate. It moved from pillows to the stone pile fire ring. My truck doors flap my comforter and sleeping bag in the wind. My Clown Tent, stable this morning before the winds started slamming it around again. I spent more time on arranging where I will sleep (the Crate), where I will change, bathe, write and paint (the Tent).
I cook at the camp table, and spend a lot of time fetching things from one station to the other. The tent has screened "windows" on three sides, and unzipping them makes the tent a pleasant if breezy studio with views. It is too windy to paint and too bright to view a computer screen without shelter. The great envelope of sunlight makes me feel that some kind of interior mold or mildew is drying out within myself, it will be swept out by the wind into the sands.
Still have too much stuff, need to jettison more baggage. Simplification proceeding!
Hi Inna,
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the beautiful views of the snow-cloaked mountains, and congratulations on having acquired such a handsome and low maintenance animal companion.
Camp living is definitely a skill. My grandparents and I used to camp and fish near the Kern River in a camper mounted on Grandpa's white Chevy truck. They slept in the camper and I had a green oiled-canvas pup-tent. I still can conjure up the waxy odor of that tent.
In retrospect, I greatly appreciate my Grandmother's housekeeping skills in our neat-as-a-pin campsite. The meals were always wonderful--cooked on a Coleman stove. I recall river trout Grandpa and i would catch at the crack of dawn, rolled in cornmeal and fried in bacon fat.
Another breakfast specialty was warm baked apples wrapped in "tin foil" and covered in the dying embers of the evening fire.
I had no idea how lucky I was.
Take care,
Bonnie