Camp Like a Girl Scout

This morning as I looked out my window, I heard the cheerful, uplifting notes of a song bird. 

Outside, it is that moment of the morning when it’s neither dark or light...just shadowed. A stillness permeates my yard as the world around me wakes up. Even in the midst of the large city I live in, no outside sounds invade my sense of the profound peace of this morning view. 

A fog drifts lazily over my back yard and I’m taken back by a memory so strong it makes me long for a mountain cabin I stayed in as a kid. 

I remember my Mom dropping me off at Mrs. Russell’s home. My sleeping bag, small bag with my clothes, and a box with the requested items were quickly loaded into her station wagon. The other twelve girls showed up, hugs were given to waiting family and kisses thrown...and we all piled into the over crowded cars.  

I called shotgun and took my place. A smug look of contentment on my face. 

I watched out the windows as we made our way south down Hwy 90 from Van Horn. The sun was just coming up and the view was amazing as always. 

We turned off the road onto SH 118 in Alpine and headed into the Davis Mountains. Off to my left in the distance I spied a herd of antelope. One of the only two times I ever got to see this. 

I wasn’t familiar with this stretch of road so I watched as the terrain around me very quickly changed. It went from open plains to rolling hills the closer we got to the mountains. The miles quickly melted behind us. 

Grasslands became hills with scrawny mesquite trees and scrub oaks dotting the land around us. Rock formations thrust up from the ground gave evidence of changes to the environment in a very distant past. 

We pulled into the campgrounds and parked near the cabins we would be staying in for the next four days. Cars were quickly unloaded and bunks claimed. First order of business, make our beds and get our area set up. 

Flashlight...check. 

Cap...check. 

Bug spray...check. 

Compass...nope. One of my brothers must have unpacked it. 

Camera..check. 

Sun screen...sigh, check. 

Free time was called and off we went running. Donna and I buddied up. There was a trail waiting to be explored. 

We got to learn and see so much. Banana boats wrapped in foil. How to set up dish washing stations. 

Learning to do the job you are assigned. 

Following trails and not being afraid to explore. 

Hiking a box canyon, seeing waterfalls up close, and then coming down the rocks by sliding over the boulders. Also called boulder bouncing. 

But more than anything, I learned to appreciate the stillness and beauty of twilight...that brief moment of time as the day begins. It’s almost as if the day took a slow cleansing breath in, held it, and then released it. 

I did get to take my kids here in the Spring of 2000. We were given permission to hike the trails, slide down boulders, and explore the grounds. My daughter, who is in her thirties now, still talks about getting to Boulder bounce. 

I remember seeing their faces and realizing I must have looked just like that. In awe of being kids and exploring something new. 

I don’t have the views of the mountains anymore. But I can still be taken back to a time of great joy by a simple bird song sounding in the twilight of a new day.