A Slower Time

There’s nothing like a few days camping in the woods with the rain to remind me to slow.

Slow down.  Set a different pace.  Our only clock was on the dashboard in the van, because when cell phones can only be recharged by a running vehicle and electricity is for those folks “not real camping” as my children say, a specific time ceases to matter.

We measured bedtime by exhaustion and dinner by hunger.  I fed Gus when he seemed hungry and my full chest agreed.  It rained for hours or maybe less, but its hard to count when raindrops on the tent fly pulse out a rhythm ideal for sleeping.

It was chaotic,
but slow.

It was work,
but there was also play.

We camped at Davidson River Campground in Brevard, NC.  It’s a place that ushers you into Mt. Pisgah National Forest and invites one to stay for days exploring land that once all belonged to George Vanderbilt and his Biltmore dynasty.

Could you imagine owning a waterfall?

Last year we swam at Looking Glass Falls and plunged into the frigid waters of Sliding Rock, but this year the rain kept us exploring in Asheville all day and drove us to a hearty breakfast at a local Cracker Barrel.  When it wasn’t raining we stayed in camp, swimming in the icy waters of the river and watching the girls jump off the rocks countless times.  We talked to strangers like they were old friends and we all delighted in our little explorers who paddled upriver to see what they could see.  They sailed back down on inner tubes and rafts, shrieking summer as the sun struggled to peek through the clouds.

We had to pack up way too soon and back home in the reality of missed calls and emails, answering machines and deadlines, I longed for the woods.

For the pace of slow.

Linking up with my friend Julia who gave me the perfect excuse to cheat my “no dairy for baby” policy and eat amazing pimento cheese.  Also linking with Kate Says Stuff.

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