Simple Observations

As I finished off the last, cold Coors Light beer within a hundred miles, I watched my wife with admiration and a little envy as she unloaded and set up our tent in record time. Leaving my wife and son to unpack the last of the gear, I headed on a half-mile trek to what I soon learned were called the communal showers and bathrooms. I was soon to learn communal meant sitting on a wooden toilet in a shed-like structure next to a man named Ed, from Boise, Idaho. Ed, while enjoying the great outdoors, had been subsisting for weeks on a diet of chili, baked beans and more chili. I didn’t even want to think about the showers. On my return trip to our campsite I couldn’t help but notice the abundance of wildlife. This included many new and exotic species of birds. I was glad my wife had allowed me to pack my binoculars. Over the years, I had gradually become a fairly knowledgeable and enthusiastic bird watcher. Returning to camp and procuring my binoculars, I proceeded to view some of the large, strange birds. They were nothing like the birds which visited my back-yard bird feeder. These were large and black like common crows, but with smaller heads. Their feathers were not a dull black, but had an iridescent shine. Their wings were large and narrow. Instead of trilling or whistling they made a high buzzing sound, almost like a bee. As I continued to stare at the strange birds, and they rapidly approached our campsite, my concentration was interrupted by my wife. In a flat, calm voice she said, “Sweetheart. I hate to ruin your reverie, but those aren’t birds, but rather mosquitoes. If you want to see the coming dawn, it may be a good idea to grab a stick and a few rocks, run for the tent, and pray we didn’t forget to pack the bug spray.” After finding a solid piece of oak, two cans of mosquito repellent, and hiding in the tent for an hour, I decided to end my first day in the great outdoors. It was nice to finally lay my head down and get a good night’s sleep. I soon found a restful sleep was going to be challenging, as I lay on my back staring at the green canvas ceiling of the tent. I tried and failed to doze off as a large and pointed rock relentlessly stabbed my back through a thin and inadequate sleeping bag. Across the tent, in a soft patch of dirt, I could hear my wife and son gently snoring as they snuggled in their thick and comfortable sleeping bags.