And so we go.  Dropping the Son off at surf camp is an excellent excuse to camp somewhere along the coast.  Because of Aged Cat at home and the promise of hot weather (to cause destruction to potted garden plants), we won’t stay more than a night or two…easier now with the teardrop.

Until our return, I leave you with a camping poem.

Camping Sacraments

Baptism

the cold clear water of a mountain lake

Holy Communion

unexpected reunion

of friends

now sharing the cup around the campfire.

The temple walls

trees

The incense

smoke

The music

frogs and dragonfly wings.

Parishioners with

deer

jackrabbits

and chipmunks.

Feasting on the

sticky sweet manna

of melted marshmallows.