Rainy Monday Night

It's raining outside just like this morning, only tonight it's really dark. The sound of falling rain takes me back to long gone days of camping with my parents. Although the outside moisture crept inside the camper and made our sleeping bags feel damp, there was something comforting about listening to the rain patter against the canvas roof and knowing we were all safe inside together.

Dad had a few favorite campgrounds that we visited repeatedly. He even had favorite campsites in some of them where we camped multiple times throughout the years. This corner spot in the upper campground at Robert H. Treman State Park was one of those spaces, but I also recall setting up camp across the road or around the circle when this site was already occupied. No one camps there now. The upper part of the park has been relegated to a "picnic ground" instead.

I didn't go on a camp out this year, not even to "Hannah's Place", at least not yet... but in my mind I can always take myself back to the days of laying in my sleeping bag next to my sisters where we would fall asleep listening to our parents talk softly around a dying campfire. Ofttimes Dad would pick up his guitar or harmonica and make some music for us and our fellow campers. Nobody seemed to mind, and sometimes he'd even get a bit of encouragement from the next campsite.