The campfire enthusiasts came at the beginning to throw in bits of cardboard, Hebe stretching forward with her leg and leaning backward with her body, not wanting to get close, not wanting too much warmth, but nervous when her kindling missed the firebox and settled on the wet ground. “Mom, you pick it up.”
|Hebe, Rebecca and the Canadian Pacific Railroad|
Jake was near the fire and screamed with 11 year old delight when he saw his first shooting star.
Eric could see the satellites circling the earth.
The big dipper continue to tip toward the earth and I could imagine water would soon come spilling it out of it and into the lake. Cassiopeia was partially hidden by the pine trees.
The sum mores were built in combinations of multiple marshmallows, and varying numbers of squares of chocolate. David Camps wanted his sans marshmallow.
We settled into an evening of ghost stories – some of them true. Really! Eric told anecdotal stories of travel to India, Jake recounted the horrors of human carnage on Mount Everest, and four year old Jack has twisted story of buying a dog at the pet store that turned into a pineapple. Really. It was all true. The mosquito coils may have kept the mosquitos away for we were comfortable watching the embers burn until 12:30 am, singing family songs and poking at the fire with sticks.