Back to the Flatlands

A very nice weekend was had by all. The old camper made the trip and back without a hiccup. I met a lot of nice people at my dad's campground, and visited with an aunt and uncle I haven't seen in almost twenty years. There was a lot of socializing that I'm not usually accustomed to; my idea of camping is mostly spent in quiet solitude (is there any other kind? Noisy solitude?), but no one seemed to mind when I would wander off by myself, or take off on my dad's golf cart, the vehicle of choice of campers.

Hike? Moi?

DH and younger daughter tried their hand (hands?) at lure fishing, and DH actually landed his first Northern. Younger daughter caught, as she said, a lot of "not-a-fish".

Sent back to the wild soon after

I spent my time reading, cursing GSM Internet access, or lack thereof, and taking pictures like someone who'd never been out of state before.

Pier where the Not-a-fish can be found.

Saturday night was amazingly clear, and with the lack of light pollution and no moon to wash out the dark, I was finally able to look up and see the swath of the Milky Way, arching across the black velvet sky. Forty-six years old, and it I had never seen it before until that night. I stretched out on a blanket and stared at stars I could never see at home.

Did I finally see a pelican over the weekend? Who cares? I surely didn't.