I can make it, I can make it, I can make it, I can ma... Ok maybe not.

It could have been a great moment, one where deep contemplative thoughts take place. The sky was clear and the moon was bright. The road beneath my feet went from light to dark as I passed in and out of the shadows from the trees. The shadows swayed as the wind blew through the tops of the trees. I looked up and was amazed by how many stars were visible. Maybe this is part of our problem. We have blocked out the stars. We no longer look up into the heavens and see the vastness of the sky. We no longer get a peek at our galaxy on a regular basis so we can feel our minuteness. Ah if only I had had the time to stop, gaze and contemplate but I did not.
There were sounds as well. The rush of the wind high up in the trees, the rustle of small creatures through the woods, snoring that vaguely reminded me of the insistent singing earlier in the night from a group of Hara Krishna.
We were camping at Hanging Rock State Park and I had caught a stomach bug and was hastily walking the 50 yards to the communal bathroom. Instead of contemplating the universe, I was counting my steps and trying to focus on the light ahead that was my destination, hoping that I would not be adding any retching noises to the peaceful night sounds. I took this walk four maybe five times. I took it until the Moon set and my weakened state allowed me to entertain thoughts of the peaceful Hara Krishna group going mad and jumping out of the trees at me, the snoring man being their cover. I wondered how annoyed the people camped next to the bathroom, were getting with me.
I am sure the wife convinced the husband that this was a great spot and now every hour she was being awakened by the banging of the outside screen door and then the sudden bang of the inside bathroom door and then the flushing, constant flushing. Why had her husband allowed her to talk him into this horrible site??
Before I left the tent to make this hike, time after time, after time, I would be freezing and the wind through the trees did not make getting out of my cozy tent inviting. When I would get back to the tent I would be sweating and found the cool breeze inviting and wonder how I could have ever doubted it.
Ah yes, Camping… why don’t we do this more often?