Fanciful Thought
I love brisk, cold mornings. Especially when I only need to go out into them to feed the cats or just stand around and enjoy the air. Although, in my youth and early days of marriage we used to go winter camping, especially around Thanksgiving. The campgrounds were mostly empty, and we always had the place to ourselves. Then later, when I hunted, it was always a winter sport and I slept in a tent. Those days are long gone.
Maybe one day, just for the heck of it, I’ll pitch a tent in the back lots and spend a winter evening outside. I’ll sit around a fire and sip a bit of whiskey. Then I’ll climb into my sleeping bag on a cot and get a restful night’s sleep. Of course, it might not be as restful as all that. After all, the back lots front on highway 290 and even in the dead of night you can hear truck tires whining as some poor soul carries his load on down the road. And there’s also the lonesome stranger heading home after a night out, the car tires at a higher pitch than the big old trucks.
So, I suspect that idea will remain a fanciful thought, but sometimes those thoughts take real shape. Maybe my grandson would like to do that. Sleep outside in a tent. Gather around a fire. Listen to night noises. Discover that you can see in the dark, if you sit quiet and keep your eyes open, and let starlight and moonlight work their magic. It might help him understand why fire was such a cool invention, and best of all, come to appreciate the beauty of silence and appreciate just how small we are when we sit outside beneath the night sky.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale