Camping in the heat of August - part I

One or two summers ago, back in 2016 while living at the little white cottage, the gypsies went camping again... I forgot to document their journey, and while reading some of my old notes this afternoon decided to post this special journey, and then one more.  So alas, here it is:  And it goes like this:

Unless you are a gypsy at heart or more accurately, a pseudo-gypsy who loves Nature up to the point of fainting, then if you live in the south, don't ever never ever go camping in the summer... k?  Just saying ;)  

When we moved south two years ago we had this idealized idea that camping here was just like camping up north, where we had done it all of our lives and where summers are the best time of year for such endeavors.  We were so used to that, that we didn't realize how things can change in a different atmosphere.  But after that first camping experience in the heat of August two years ago (you can read all about it HERE, if you'd like), we soon learned that things are very much different in the south, and swore never ever to go camping again in the summer... that's, until this weekend. Hehe!

You see, someone had told my husband the Fisherman of this magical gypsy camp place where fishes abound and practically wait placidly by the riverbanks to be caught.  And thus... you just know how it goes... he made reservations without telling me. And of course, I didn't want to spoil his enthusiasm. So I went along, and not even once said anything about our old promise... of summer, and of the relentless summer days in the south, or of being a gypsy at the wrong time of the year, and such...  

It was a beautiful place indeed.  Heat and humidity steamed out of the earth like lava coming out of some strange volcano.  Fishes didn't want to bite, and the camp was quiet and swarming with ants and then some more... 

The surroundings were fantastic... and as beautiful as a painting in soft aquarelle

Around mid-day we cooked our lunch, and later ate it in a groggily state... the fisherman washed the dishes and I dried them up.  We took our books out and read.  We drank sparkling coconut-pineapple Ice, we ate watermelon and kept perspiring some more. We watched the clouds for strange, wild animals and mythological creatures doing whatever they do high above past the tall pines, and went in and out the gypsy caravan like some crepuscular squirrels, getting from tree to tree from tree to the ground... waiting for heat and humidity to subside a bit. 

The gypsy caravan was a cocoon in cheerful colors, veils and velvet.

Baby you got what I need... you got my sunshine.  

Baby you... you got what I need baby you...

and when I'm with you, it is a beautiful world.

It's all I can dream... baby you... you got what I need...
Have you heard that song?

I could have gone swimming, but when the Fisherman went down to the river, I started down the green paths on a nature's hunt all by myself. 'Cause that's just who I am. And thus, I collected some lovely treasures... pinecones and needles, an interesting moss covered twisted twig, and some pebbles and stones that all went to live in my garden.  A bird's feather was found buried among the wildflowers... from which it may have come from among the many?  I had to wonder.  

By that time, my head was already spinning under the heat of the day... spinning spinning... that's when I discovered an ogre encrusted on a tree, and further down some witch's cottage among old tangled roots.  Hello, is anyone there?

It was such a magical day... things did really got better after that... it did, it really did!  But I'll have to stop right here for now, cause my story can linger, and I'm sure you'd not want to read past here... so yeah, I'll come back real soon with a 'second season' of Camping in the heat of August.  How 'bout that! ;)  For now, that's it.  Hope you had fun reading.  And stay tune for more!


PS:  next story in our following post - continuation