TRAVELOGUE: This Is Where We Came In (Camping--Day Eight)

Note: This is the last installment in the Travelogue series. It was a great deal of fun to write and, I hope, to read as well. 


One of my perpetual childhood stories describes the way in which I saw movies as a young child. Because my father worked late hours, whenever we went out to a movie we would catch it already in progress. We would watch the remainder, sit through the credits, then stay through the beginning, leaving only when we'd arrived back at our own unique starting point. "This is where we came in," my dad would quietly announce, at which point we'd gather our things and make for the exit. It was an odd way to see a movie but at the time I thought it was normal.

Tonight, our last night, we met back up with our starting point when a serious-looking sky brought a smallish storm. Again, like that first night last week, we only got the edge of the action and not a full-on attack. But still, we were bookended by storms. There's a bit of rain now, barely audible and not nearly as prevalent as the lonesome train whistle in the distance. And there's a good breeze, but nothing like the blow that brought this system toward us back during the daylight hours, causing us to douse the campfire and batten down the hatches.

So this is where we leave. It has been a grand week-plus full of fun and frolic. But the filmstrip is flapping in the projector and the houselights are coming up. We need to pick up our things, stop by the garbage can (dump station), then make our way home.

There was a second bookend as well. Two days into the trip was when my son saw the bald eagle, and two nights before the end of our trip he pointed out the International Space Station as it made its pass over our piece of the sky. We've come full-circle and in life, as in art, that's always a good thing.