It was about 17 this morning when I left for work, cold for this part of the world in the Old Dominion. But it brought back memories of a three day backpacking trip two Novembers ago, because that was about the temperature when we woke up early that Saturday morning. I seriously did not want to leave my tent. It was so cold - even in the tent. And I knew it would be worse outside. But nature was calling, urgently, and I decided a dry, cold tent was better than a wet, cold tent. But it took a lot of willpower to crawl out of the sleeping bag, pull on some ice-cold clothing, put my hard-as-iron hiking boots on my feet, and move outside.
But it was a fun trip, with good memories, and the cold temperatures today triggered those memories for me. And it made me appreciate a warm bed, a hot shower, and a car with a heater to get to my next destination (even though it was just work, not a fun hike up a mountain to the next camping site).
The Ones Who are Gone
2 weeks ago