When I was a kid, we lived in a place that was surrounded by trees. I could go for long walks in the woods and pretend all kinds of things. There were fairies, trolls, witches...all manner of things running through those woods and fueling my imagination.

I hate that I don't have that for my son. In fact sometimes it makes me feel like a complete failure because in my opinion, there is nothing that promotes imagination so well as wooded acres.

So, I take him camping. Don't think campground. Think pitch black late night without another person in sight. The only sounds are the sounds of the muskrats playing in the water and the new spring babies crying for their mamas.

And while my body aches from the waking muscles that slumbered all winter (and then some), I wouldn't trade our camping experiences for anything. He gets to be all boy and I get a much needed dose of nature. And if he gets to bring a friend along to share the experience, the more the merrier!

Of course, the wildlife pictures Hunter took are beautiful, but when it comes to me, well it's hard to look pretty at 6 a.m. after sleeping with a root under my back all night. Ah well, it's the memories that the pictures hold, not the image.


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