Falling Embers

This evening the boys and I enjoyed dining with nature. Walt and Livingston headed down to the firepit to start the fire, while Beckham and I went to the store to get hot dog buns and beer. Upon my arrival back home, I tried to quickly change Beckham's diaper then pack up only the essentials, plus the kitchen sink:

the hot dogs (7 dogs!)
hot dog buns
mustard
beer
marshmallows
potato chips
3 bottles of beer
a wine cooler
water
paper towels
knit hats for L and B (previously mentioned in my last post)
Campfire retractable roasting sticks
paper plates
paper towels
a diaper
wet wipes
blankets
two hooded jackets for L and B
bug spray
and a Beckham

and can you believe, it all fit in the stroller???

Aaaahhh...the tender crackling of the fire, the flames lapping up the wood and the smell of a campfire, something I didn't really experience as a child but at least my boys will. No, as a child my parents would take us camping at the beach in NC, where my most favorite time of the day was breakfast. That sound of my mother cooking over the pop-up propane stove. Getting dressed without falling down in the tent or camper, while hoping last night's sand wasn't trekked into the sleeping area. I was always amazed at how my mother was able to get up earlier than we did to prepare such a breakfast. Not that we're early risers, my mother always beat us at getting up, but we were on vacation and camping no less so it seemed like there was so much more for her to have to prepare and do for us all. Ah yes, the smell of the crackling bacon and eggs sunny side up with white bread all soft and fresh. At home we usually had to eat wheat bread because it was better for us, so this was a treat...White Wonderbread. Oh...and the butter...the real, no margarine, butter. Full on! Those were the days... I love the sound of our metal spoons and forks on the paper plates and how we would have to anchor down the paper napkins, with OJ that had pulp to my sister's chagrin, to keep them from flying away since we were eating outside. Honestly, I really don't like camping but I have to say that breakfast was always fantastic. Thanks Ma.

I almost lost track of why I was posting, ha ha ha... Back to the firepit "of doom" as we call it. After we ate we enjoyed closing our eyes and listening to "nature". There were sounds of crickets chirping, toads croaking and various other bugs that made buzzy-creeky sounds. We even got to hear the crazy sounding chatter of our local foxes, that surprisingly sounded like owls with a large vocabulary, that were on the other side of the creek. It sounded like this, "Whooo! Whooo! Whooo! Haaa-whooo!!!!" So ofcourse I had to mimic them...loudly. Livingston said that I sounded like an owl or a gorilla, except that gorillas said it with a deeper voice. I would call out to them and a minute later they chattered back, or at least, I would like to think they did. Walt thinks that they noticed the fire, wasn't too keen about it, made sure their buddies knew about it, and kept talking about it as they headed away.

As loud as it can be with all the bugs and animals, crackling fire and trickling creek, it felt more peaceful than a quiet house. All was right in the world, all was at peace. (except for my gorilla-owl howl ofcourse)