Daily writing prompt

Have you ever been camping?

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Camping is a rather vague word. The levels of rusticity that are incorporated within that simple word are broad enough to drive automobiles on. I have camped on a mat, under the stars, with my only emergency shelter from rain being a large plastic bag.

I camped once on a beach and brought more of my stuff with me than I actually realized I owned. On that beach, there was a new road formed upon our tent’s placement. It was a very busy road that resembled a roundabout. It was round about our tent and venturing outside felt like one was making breakfast amidst a demolition derby.

There have been alkaline lakes surrounded by sand and mountains without a splinter of shade to be found where any tent was sacrificed to the incessant wind. A boat was heavy enough to hold still on land so it became our resting spot while the fireworks tried to compete with a blazing Milky Way.

There have been tents large and small, but the largest tent of all was a 20 man tent of canvas and wooden poles. The floor was the sand, the color a dull green, the desert wind blew through it from west to east. We had cots, which was good, since visitors arrived every night seeking warmth after the sun set. Shake out your boots! Hang everything up that you can. Mojave Greens own this desert span.

Camping is a rather vague word after all.