We thought for sure the rest of the people in our campground were making jokes about the "city folk" who came woefully unprepared and who sat up most of the night shouting, giggling and turning their tent into a discotheque. (Never give Avery a flashlight after midnight.)
We did the true camper's cookout- roasting weenies & toasting s'mores...making a huge sticky, gooey mess. Avery kept saying over and over again, "I love camping. I love camping. I love you all. I love camping." (For those of you who have met Ave, you know this is a pretty big deal. He is the king of using the phrase "I hate...." "I hate you sock. I hate you red-light. I hate you bugs. I hate you hot slide. I hate you peanut butter....." We try to curb it, but- it was refreshing to hear him swing in the completely opposite direction.)
We took a midnight walk with the stars - a flashlight as our only guide down to the beach where our feet literally sank into the powdery sand. There was no noise save for the occasional, "Its so dark out here" from the guys and the quiet and continuously calm lapping of the waves on the shore.
You forget, living in a city like Chicago that there really are more than just a few stars in the sky. So many stars. You feel so big and so very small looking out at that many stars. The big dipper was so big and so low I swear it looked like we could jump in the lake and swim right into the ladle. I saw a shooting star. I made a wish.
We swam the whole day away. We started out at the quiet beach near our campground and then moved to a harbor beach and had the little mermaid above, join us.As we drove home with everyone snoozing in the back of the truck we were grateful for that happy exhausted feeling, for the tightness of slightly sunned skin, for spending time with family, for spending time together, for escaping, for just a short time.