Sunlight and campfire, dawn rippling the waters of the lake. Summer sun and the silent blue sky. Gray sky and river slicing through the red and umber of autumn maple leaves. Green Goddess greeting the glory of the world.
My wife and I have such rich memories of our first year of tiny trailer camping to carry with us into the second season. No longer am I worried if I'll be able to tow and park the trailer. Each will be accomplished in its turn . . . eventually, more or less. We have defined a handful of workable routines that make setting up and breaking down camp straightforward and efficient.
Now that my intuition tells me that spring weather is just around the corner (although what I'm seeing out the window is still ice with a forecast of snow), probably our first trips out will be to our familiar local campgrounds so that we can experience again their charms and pleasures.
I've begun some packing of teas in anticipation of sipping a cuppa while sitting by a morning fire. A short list of a few things to buy is being compiled, including an electric air pump that plugs into the car system and a grease gun for the trailer's axle bearings. I want to remove the trailer hitch assembly and paint out some rust, buy some lube for the ball. These are small items that will take place as soon as the temperatures rise above freezing on a regular basis and ice, snow, and rain give a break.
Our sophomore year of camping is a realization of how much we learned that first season. This year should be much more rewarding--if that's possible.
Many people camp in tents and trailers and RVs of all sizes. My rig is a tall "standy" teardrop, easy to tow and set up, relatively low in price considering the market, and as comfortable as I imagined as a child a squirrel's nest in a hollow tree to be. The Green Goddess is my home on wheels--or if you wish to quibble, maybe my bedroom on wheels, where I open the door and am outdoors.
I want to get away, but not to escape. Rather, I want to get away as Ralph Waldo Emerson thought it--moving into nature in order to live a larger life, to be surrounded by the organizing intelligence of the world as it actively composes the primeval symphony of life. I want to get away from petty concerns and soak in the silence that underlies every sound, that silence from which sound arises, where doing is just the active phase of being.
I am patiently awaiting our second season of tiny trailer camping. Wake up, crickets, and hail the coming of spring!