Not enough, not nearly enough

This adorable trailer decoration was a gift from my sister.
I absolutely love it! Thanks, Liz!

I just miss it, that's all.

I miss it and it's barely over – the sleeping bags aren't even dry yet. There are still marshmallows to be toasted, the giant kind. I don't think the big ones are quite as tasty as the regular sized marshmallows. Maybe they're like fish – the smaller ones are always tastier than the lunkers. I think that's true with humans, too, which is why I will never get eaten by a bear in the woods, not when there is flesh more tender than my own. (Come children, let's go for a walk ...)

We've been camping for years, Dave and I, but I don't think I've ever been so melancholy at the end of a camping season as I am now. Where did it go, the time? It seems like we were just packing the trailer for our first trip and now it's over.

People ask me why I go camping so much. Geez, it doesn't seem enough to me.

Not enough laughter shared around a crackling campfire, not enough spectacular scenery.

Not enough four pound bass dancing on the end of a fishing line, not nearly enough strokes of a paddle through quiet water.

It's the adventure I will miss the most, as I bide my time through the next seven months; the feeling of exploring places never been seen before, of being one with nature.

Of hearing wolves howl in the minutes before the sun rises, of unexpectedly coming across a regal moose on a bicycle trail.

I will miss the quick dance of my surprised heart when my footsteps flush out a ruffed grouse from the yellow gold of the autumnal forest.

I'll miss snuggling into my sleeping bag and falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, clear from worries, slow with the honest exhaustion that only comes from a day spent entirely in the sun and wind.

This is why I camp. 

This. 

And this. 

And all of this.

Balsam Lake, May 24 weekend. Putting duct tape to good use.

Balsam Lake, May 24, campfire with the Raneys.

Kiosk, end of May fishing trip amongst the blackflies. 

Kiosk, June. My big, big bass! Worth the blackfly bites!

Algonquin Park, July holidays. Daytripping via canoe.

Algonquin Park, July.

Sam snuggles in for the night, Algonquin Park, July.

Grundy Lake Provincial Park, August.

Cedar Lake, Brent access point to Algonquin Park, Labour Day.

Cedar Lake, Labour Day weekend.

Kiosk fishing trip, Dave and brother Tom, September.

Kiosk fishing trip, Liz's lunker. September.

Kiosk sunrise, September.

Lake of Two Rivers, Algonquin Park, Thanksgiving.

Two Rivers hiking trail lookout, Algonquin, Thanksgiving.

That incredible view. Algonquin, Thanksgiving.