Camping in the Cold

The wind blows cold
And carries on it the scent of snow
Crisp, clear, crackling.
Perfect weather for a cozy fire
And a good book and salty popcorn
Yet here we are, Camping in this barren forest.

So though our cheeks are chapped red
And our noses continuously sniffle
We hike through the woods like pros.
Our feet push through piles of leaves
Crunch, crunch, crunch
We echo through the woods
Eerily quiet except for the wind howling past us
As even the squirrels know it is time to be
Inside somewhere warm.

Darkness falls like a curtain

Over the tall trees towering above us

And then it is time for sleep.

We lay still with eyes wide, staring into the darkness

And the night sounds of the forest

Come alive, like a small child creeping downstairs

For a forbidden glass of milk after bedtime.

The trees’ bare branches beat together like bones

Clacking in the wind

A steady drumbeat.

The rustling of ‘possums and raccoons
Drifts by now and then
And owls hoot softly, in the distance and now nearby
We listen in wonder, never having noticed
The symphony of sounds to be discovered in the woods
When people are not talking or walking
When we have time to just wait and be still.

We could be at home with a book
But instead we are here, sleeping among the wild things
Breathing in the aroma of pine and mold
Part of nature in its barren beauty.
Tomorrow we will fish and rock climb
Tomorrow we will watch for sparrows and woodlarks.
I drift off to sleep to the lullaby of the woods, An unusual but powerful tune.

That's it. End of a poem on camping from the Oklahoma State testing board. The boys had fun. It was very cold, it was Porter's first camp out with the scouts. I slept in my warm bed wondering how they were doing.

This is a great picture. The woods were full of trees chewed and fallen by beavers. Are we ready to go camping yet?