And today, we biked for just seven miles on a late-afternoon jaunt. Then, we had dinner at a restaurant where they know us, and then we came home.
That is not the end of the story.
"Camping?" you were asking.
On tge front lawn, Mike built a fire in our LL Bean fire pit and we each roasted one old marshmallow. I burned twigs in the fire pit while Nick built himself a shelter out of sticks and cedar boughs.
Now, we're each set up. Nick is in his shelter on two sleeping pads with a small pillow. He declined the sleeping bag Mike offered. Mike is on a backpacking Thermarest and in my bivy sack with the 25 degree Kelty. I am on my Lafuma recliner in the zero degree Kelty. I'm a bit warm but it's cooling off. It's supposed to get into the fifties later, cool enough to discourage mosquitos.
Earlier, I saw our bats cruising for bugs in the twilight. There's a high cloud cover, enough to minimize dew fall, but not enough for rain.
The red blinking beacon across the valley denotes civilization in the far distance. I don't think, after years of living here, that any of us really hears the road noise from our highway. Sometimes I wonder where those people are going. I like wondering.
Mike is quiet now and Nick coughs occasionally. A dog is barking in the distance. I'm hoping our owl will hoot or the coyotes will howl. Both Teddy and Seth are safely tucked into their beds inside. The dazzling sunset is over and twilight dimmed after 10:00 pm.
And I am here, looking at waves of clouds slowly moving across the sky. Boughs of cedar are silhouetted against it and a jet moves ahead of its own sound. When the moon rises, it will be full.
Thank you for listening, jb