Tiny tent and the great open sky

Ihaven’t gone camping in a tent in a long time.

I grew up camping and, for much of that time, it was in a tent. My parents would take my sister and me to the Boundary Waters between Minnesota and Canada for about a week. We’d paddle our canoes from one lake to the next.

We’d listen to the loons at night.

We’d build a fire. We’d eat dried food – which miraculously tasted better the farther we paddled …