Childhood Memories of a Family Camping Trip

The smell of campfire smoke lingers in my nostrils. The breeze moves through the trees, creating a melody for all to hear. The bubbling sound of a brook can be heard far in the distance. Peace and tranquility settle upon my soul, and I feel that everything is right. Nature wraps its arms around me and I feel safe and comforted.

I soon hear the sounds of children's laughter and the whooshing of bicycles going by. I finally open my eyes and pull myself out of my sleeping bag. Goosebumps cover my flesh immediately, and I hurry to change into my jeans and sweatshirt. Once I am dressed in my camping attire, I decide to venture out to the cool, crisp mountain air. I take a deep breath and inhale the all-encompassing freshness of morning at Silver Jack Camping Grounds.

I wander down to my grandparents' campsite and smell the scent of a newly built campfire. My grandpa sees me and waves. In his deep, baritone voice he asks, " How'd you sleep?"

I smile and say, " Pretty good." My grandma steps out of their camper with a teapot in one hand and matches in the other. She lights the burner and starts to heat up water for hot chocolate and coffee. She smiles at me and says good morning. The three of us sit down at the old, worn picnic table and start to talk about odds and ends. I love this solitary time with two of the people I admire and care for most.

Soon after this moment in time, the laughter of children and the whoosh of bicycles can be heard again. The screech of the brakes follows the whoosh of the bikes. My brother and three cousins get off their bikes and walk over to the table. They continue to chatter like chipmunks, and my grandparents and I share a smile of remembering those days of early childhood. Life seems so care...

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...e and wait for everyone else to show up. I want to savor every last minute of my time here.

Breakfast this morning has a more melancholy feel to it. I look at everyone sitting around the table and see a reminiscent look on their faces. It is not necessarily this place that we will miss, but the people and the feeling that go along with it. This dream that we are living in is going to end shortly, and we will have to return to reality.

We pack all of our things back up and put the pop-up campers down. All of us tell each other good bye for the time being and prepare for the next time we will see each other. We hop in our cars and start to drive away down the washboard dirt road. I roll down the window and listen to the melody of the breeze one last time. I try to memorize every lyric of its song. Nature releases me from its embrace, and I return to real life.