MOUNTAIN TIME

Tonight, the child, the wife, and I are retiring to our sleeping bags in our three-man tent in our campsite of White River Campground of Mount Rainier National Park. The fire has just been extinguished and the sky is filled with thousands of visible stars, most of which cannot be seen from our home due to the lights of suburban and urban living that washout the night sky. Our bellies are full of hotdogs and baked beans. This meal was chosen by the child, who in her toddler mind, thought this would be good food for the evening. It was.

This is the child's first camping trip. She is excited about her sleeping bag. She is excited about marshmallows toasted over hot coals. She is excited by hotdogs and baked beans. She is excited by the river whose rapids we stood inches above upon a footbridge. She is excited by all of the rocks. It is wonderful to see her interaction with nature and the world around her. Everything is new. Everything is full of potential. Nothing, or very little, has yet to be soured by those around her, or events, or her own shortcomings. This is paradise.