Saturday, June 9, 2012

The smell of a campfire in my hair

I can still hear the murmur of the last kids to go to sleep after we doused the fire. Their dad is quiet and the older boy's voice is subdued. He's eleven. It the voice of the seven-year-old that I hear best. He's not good at quiet yet. He's giggling. I don't mind their voices. Everyone else is either asleep or faking it. Jack isn't snoring, so I know he's faking. He said he forgot his sleeping pills. Poor guy. I hope I hear him snoring at some point soon.

The stars are out. The air is clear. I'm surprised there isn't a hint of seawater in it. Bummer. I like that smell. I'll be able to get that tomorrow in the car on my way home. Nick brought some barnacles on a crab shell. He was going to keep them alive, but he didn't bring any water.

I need to tuck in to sleep, but think of dogs happy to run, a crabby campground host, a bag of BBQ chips from the general store, barnacles, Dutch oven chocolate cherry surprise, boys throwing sand, songs around a campfire, commercials around a campfire, night-time voices, and dogs barking from a distance.

Thank you for listening, jb

No comments:

Post a Comment