I purposely didn't wash my hair this morning. Last night's campfire and a day spent in the salty, briny air left my hair dready and curly; the sharp fragrance my way to bring my camping trip home. A tangible reminder that I was there.
Our original reservation was for these safari tents. Don't they look cool? When we arrived we found we'd been upgraded to mini cabins, no extra charge. It seems the camp site next to our reserved tents was occupied by noisy, twenty-something young men who were rowdy and hard to contain, (read: they couldn't seem to honour the 10pm quiet curfew). Lucky for us, their misbehavior was our gain. Two, sweet little cabins next door to one another, complete with a tiny bathroom, (no scary, middle of the night I'm holding my pee til morning) and a little kitchenette. Not really camping any longer, but we didn't care.
Each campsite, (safari tents or cabins), comes with an amazing rustic picnic table and outdoor fire pit. My cabin's table was nestled underneath an old Oak tree, her branches dripping down to the ground, creating the pefect dining area for us. We ate our meals here each evening, battery-operated lanterns creating an intimate setting, a place where we could talk or just be.
I snapped this polaroid this morning, after my breakfast and morning pages, as the sun rose high into the crystal blue sky. I wanted a visual reminder, (like my smoky hair), of the day my heart beat a little more regularly, of the day that for the first time in a very long time, I felt happy and whole.
