Camping...Again

I went camping last week for one night. A friend was getting there a day before her husband to set up camp and get everything cozy like home. I kind of invited myself along. For the first night only.

She was bringing her 8 yr old chocolate lab and so I decided to bring crazy-wild-get-in-trouble-every minute dog, Jack. Don't be fooled by my description...this canine is my soul mate and I couldn't imagine going without her.

So it was a bitter sweet drive because this was the first place I camped while embarking on my walk across America. Tomoka State Park is lovely and right on the intercoastal waterway at Ormond Beach. I kept asking Jack if she remembered this or that. We drove down the long road to the park entrance and I vividly remember walking that 4 mile stretch 2 yrs ago. Pretty wonderful memory.

Setting up camp was familiar. I put her on a cable attached to a tree while I set up the tent. Nothing had changed in these 2 yrs. She tangled herself up amongst the trees and bushes or complained bitterly at the restraint. My friend's dog, being 6 yrs older than Jack and, apparently, of a calmer disposition did not even need the cable. He lay peacefully while my dog acted the clown...or idiot...depending on what mood I was in at any particular moment.

After my camping companion and I had settled in and had lunch, we walked the pups to a "watering hole" - actually a canal off the intercostal. My friend's dog, being a lab, just walked right in and hung out in the water. My non-swimming dog who can't even do the doggie paddle, just leapt in and out of the water like a kangaroo, seriously it was hilarious, trying to engage the lab in play. When that didn't work, (the lab didn't want to be dragged off to a dog insane asylum), my crazed animal tore around like a Tasmanian devil, whirling like a dervish. I was glad to see this because she seriously needed to blow off some steam. 

After all that excitement we headed back to camp and began cooking dinner...well, my friend did. My healthy choices held no attraction for either of us and because I was beginning a fast the next day, I guess I decided a hotdog would be a great way to celebrate. Or something. I rarely eat meat and certainly not processed meat but that hotdog and corn on the cob cooked over the campfire was a treat. 

So after many short walks to attempt wear Jack out..which by the way does NOT wear her out..I crawled into my tent, dog in tow, to sleep. I got her settled and I turned on my Kindle. Drowsiness kicked in and I dozed off but not for long. My camping partner had not put everything away off the picnic table. Most of the food was in her tent with her but some stuff, particularly her giant cooler, was left outside. So a repeat of 2 yrs ago occurred..an insurgency of raccoons! Seriously, they are completely oblivious to the noise they make and they make a racket. Even though there was little food to raid, they make all that noise searching for it. It sounded like a herd of giants stomping through the underbrush. And they fuss and fight amongst themselves making chirping sounds like squirrels.

You might be wondering how Jack responded to all this mayhem. No barking for which I was grateful but a whole lot of snorting. She sounded like a horse when they are frightened of something, clearing out their nostrils of dust in order to catch the scent. Yea, she did ALOT of that. This went on for HOURS. I had to crawl out of the tent a couple times to go to the bathroom/bushes. That scattered them temporarily. But as soon as I settled back in, they returned in all their glory.

Finally, sometime around 3 am, the crowd dispersed. Jack went to sleep. But I didn't for a while. I listened to the sounds of the night. My friend, or her dog, snored. The guy in the next campsite coughed. There was a train in the distance...I love the sounds of trains at night. A generator on an RV kicked on and off. Crickets chirped. Owls hooted. The full moon shines brightly through my tent.

And my mind spun like Jack had earlier in the day. 

Until I listened for the peace that underlays everything, is always right below the surface of the chaos. It was there for me. I just had to still myself to be aware of it, to acknowledge it, to receive it.