Sunday morning coming down

As expected, I awoke on Sunday before anyone else so I set about lighting a fire and getting a percolator primed and ready. It was another gorgeous morning. I felt thankful that the mosquitos hadn't put in much of an appearance and that the rain had held off. We were truly lucky on those counts.

My friends slowly awakened and joined me by the fire. Ere long we witnessed the percolating of a second fully armed and operational coffee pot. Tents were taken down between cups of coffee and a copious servings of bacon that were fried using a schwenker that one of my friends had inherited from a family member. The griddle has a raised rim and so it can hold a goodly amount of liquid fat.

The newest amongst us had brought their hound and he was tired from all the attention he had received the past couple days.

After breaking my fast I took one last stroll down the road to the boat landing to bid the Black River farewell until next year.

I wasn't ready to leave. If only we could have had a couple more days - of fellowship & laughter, of the peace & calm of the forest. The weekend had been restorative for me. On the drive home I felt stronger, more resilient to the slings and arrows of my outrageous ex-wife. I felt like I belonged, like I was part of a web of friendships.

Though I must admit that I was looking forward to getting home first to Willow and then my ladyfriend.

I wish we would do this more often.