Camping

During my elementary years, we spent many summer and fall weekends camping at the beach with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. At times we used a motorhome, others a cab-over camper, sometimes a tent too. We loved to camp in the spots that were right on the sand – we could toast marshmallows and hear the waves crashing, and we could feel the cold, damp sand in our toes while we had our breakfast in the morning.

My cousin enjoying the sun and sand.

My brother and I next to the campfire.

As anyone who has lived or vacationed at the beach knows, early mornings are often foggy, and how warm the day is depends on how early the fog burns off. My brother and I would put pieces of driftwood or firewood scraps in the coals of the campfire until they were smoldering, then we’d extinguish any real flame in the sand and wave the smoking sticks around in the direction of the ocean. We called it our “fog dance,” convinced that we could thwart the marine layer from ruining our fun.

The older we got, the more activities we were involved in, and the busier our weekends became. Camping trips became fewer and farther between, and soon beach trips were more often day adventures. The memories of our fog dances, s’mores, and breakfast in the sand are fond ones, and I am looking forward to making some camping memories of our own with our boys when they’re just a little bigger.