After what it seemed hours on top of wild horses going up hills and neve ending hilly dirt roads, we finally found it—the black rock in the middle of the river, from which the campground gets its name. 

And what beautiful, beautiful place in the middle of nowhere—a small camp site with only the perfect few campers which, like us, prefer the solitude of the mountains to four wheelers and such... what pain those noise people are.  Always looking more to the fun they can get than to the respect for nature and the solitude this world needs so much on these crazy days we’re living.

Right below our campsite—the river.  Like a belly overhand, the terrain lays out above the river on a curb, leaning on the one side to the forest, with the amazing views of the mountains above our heads; and the water, crystalline and pure running below, where geese found their natural pool and for hours just stopped swimming and let the waters take them down... slowly and graceful..

I was afraid it was going to be super-hot like our last campout, but instead a beautiful breeze run over the entire place and the tall pines and trees protected us from the intense sun in a most blessed way.

Down at the river there was a part where a natural pool had been established by large rocks so campers could go down and swim and even take baths... 

We walked all the way to where the black rock was and walked atop rocks formations and fished and came back to our camp singing and laughing.  We cooked and eat better than ever thanking God for His amazing love and protection.  We read, sipped coffee and ate watermelons and sleep a long night—deep and happy.

  

The old gypsies got together with some friends and friends of their friends this time and head out to the mountains and rivers.  This time, they rode onto the opposite side of the sun, which meant they rode west, instead of east, which is the way they usually take, and crossed onto another state.

It was fun spending time with friends and getting to meet new friends.  It was hot that Friday afternoon.  So hot that my brain overheated and my body felt very hot and uncomfortable and thus, I put on my swimming suit and walked down to the river by myself... I walked on the rocks and went to sit in the middle of the river—its cold, clean water rushing through my body and my thoughts, until I cooled down and regain my senses...

We sung hymns and worshiped our Heavenly Father with the music of guitars and ukuleles, we share food and told stories until the sun came down and the atmosphere cool down, we talked and got to meet each other and we prayed and laughed and we had such a good time that it never downed to us that we are still living under a mean pandemic and not once thought of wearing our masks or don’t be too close to each other... and later I sat down and regret having done all this...

What were we thinking? 

 Thankfully, everything was fine and everyone is still doing good.

We bless our Lord for his protection, we bless Him for His guidance and we commend ourselves to Him each hour, then, we trust, and we go to work and trust some more and keep praying and wait for His return. 

Camping at the “Lilac trees” campground, as I call this place...

I still remember last year’s penuries, the intense heat of July, the amount of people, their loud music and the particularly barrenness of the campground the Fisherman had chosen... I swore I never wanted to come back here again, if it wasn’t at that time of the year in early April when the lilac trees are in bloom and the intoxicating scent of its flowers pervades the campsite for miles around.  But this year the Fisherman chose right, and we got a place up on the higher grounds, outlooking the lake, were a small grove of trees and pines gives campers and gypsies their much-needed respite from the sun...

Campers were fewer this year too; with just the right amount of boats on the lake and children swimming in the afternoon, and birds seem to be everywhere this year, knowing perhaps that they have more liberty now with less people around, you find them flying from tree to tree everywhere, and the better part of it is, you can hear the too... their songs filling the airs and soothing your soul. 

I loved it here this year; and I’m so thankful—loved being able to sit outside under the shade of trees and just look down at the lake and at the boats going by and youth screaming with joy as boats race hauling them in their floating devices...

After our late lunch, we put our chairs out and brought our books, then I started my computer and wrote and wrote... and how peaceful it felt, and how I loved pouring out my heart into words for hours without end... until all of a sudden we noticed that the sun was coming down and that the people next to us were busy working on their dinner, and the Fisherman stood up and started making dinner too.  

We went for a walk around the campground right after dinner, and although it was still somewhat hot, I had energy enough to feel happy doing so...

When we came back to our camp we sat down again and again I wrote some more while the Fisherman read his new book... It was beautiful at this time of the day. Sunshine on the water made little twinkling stars and they shined and twinkle and the entire surface of the lake seem like a sky of glass.

...until the sun plunged behind those tall mountains in front of us and as soon as it did, temperatures plunged down as well, and it got a bit chilly... so sudden, that it was almost hard to believe... ah the power of the sun!

It was beautiful outside at this time of the day. 

We went inside and made sure our windows were all drown and that the gypsy caravan felt comfortable and cozy and then we read some more under the lights of lamps, before falling asleep.

I am feeling so much energetic these days, and I am so thankful for that... for a while now, my levels of energy had been slowly decreasing, and I have to wonder if this new energy had something to do with the vitamins 12 I started taking, and the spirulina, although I think it must probably has something to do with the inflammation medication that I’m also taking, which it is acting marvelous on my joins and movements.

So, by 6:30 am I was up, got dressed, and went outside to prepare our breakfast... it felt so good being able to do the things I used to and not having the Fisherman do them for me...

It was such a beautiful morning too, clear and with a wonderful blue sky above our heads.  We decided it was the perfect time for a little hike, and thus we hiked to the top of the hill, to where a small overlook stands and one can view the entire campground from there as campers start making there breakfast and the day wakes up. 

The hills were covered in wildflowers and it felt peaceful and quiet and I thought of how fortunate we were to still have peace in our midst and be able to enjoy the little things in life, which are really the big things in life, when others can’t or won’t.

Later that morning we droved down to the peer so that the Fisherman could fish.  We took our chairs and I read while the Fisherman fished or killed fish.  For he did.  He was too slow in removing the hook out on one fish, and although we tried saving the little thing, we couldn’t and I felt terribly bad for it...

We drove around the other side of the campground to take a look at future prospect sites and to see people’s motorhomes and campers and then came back to another cup of cinnamon coffee and toasts.  Ah, those awesome flavors of that ‘cinnamon’ coffee, which I have kept in our gypsy camper and only use when camping—every time I drink this coffee, I’m taken back to Cartagena, Colombia in memories, where we bought it last year in June when we visited Colombia for our nephew’s Alex’s wedding. 

It was such a beautiful place, and such beautiful morning that day, and every time I drink it every memory comes back...

I let the Fisherman cook our lunch; he likes doing that, so although I’m mostly vegetarian he made chicken fajitas... 

Then another night...

...and another beautiful morning...