The quarter moon isn't enough to quite illuminate the sky and through the trees, the bulbs of tiny fireflies flash out of sync. The batteries on my headlamp have long since died and for the life of me I cannot figure out how to change them so my eyes strain into the darkness, though I know what and who is surrounding me - the Germans, Smokes and Smiley Virgin, are still working their way though what appears to be at least a gallon of macaroni and cheese. Red Knees is completely fascinated and enthralled by his new iPhone, after being out of contact for the past 500 miles. Roadrunner is working on his journals in the vain hope of catching up on the prior 20 days before it is too dark to make out the words on the page. 2 Pack is lying with her back to me on the picnic table across the way, nose buried in "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed.
Earlier in the day I have had the blessing of speaking with good friends, family and loved ones. We have pressed up steep hills in the hot, heavy air. We crossed over the biscuits and bagels line and entered our seventh. We have once again been blessed by the kindness of strangers who have offered us some of their time and a quick ride into town.
The boys have now ventured off to sneak into the pool area of the campsite and from the dry warmth of my sleeping bag I can hear splashes as they assuredly push each other into the cold water. The sounds of the birds have died down and 2pack has turned off her head lamp. My eyelids are heavy.
It has been a good day.
No comments:
Post a Comment