On Sleeping Outside

I've always enjoyed camping, ever since I was very young when my family used to camp (this was before my mother asserted her dislike of the outdoors and general discomfort). Some of my warmest memories aren't even very good memories, but are fleeting images of green woody areas and a river (?) and a tent. Maybe it was somewhere in Oregon, I don't really know.

I don't get to go camping nearly as much anymore as I would like to; I just don't ever seem to have the time, and if I did have the time, I wouldn't have anyone to go with me. I have found an amazing solution to that problem, though, since we moved into a house with a backyard.

I'm not sure if you knew this, but back porch + old futon + sleeping bag = I may never sleep inside a building again. It's a combination of the best parts of camping (sleeping outside! Watching the stars! Fresh air! Night sounds!) and the best parts of living in a house (bed to sleep on! Indoor bathroom nearby! I can forage in the kitchen for breakfast! Roof in case it rains!). It was interesting that for the first week or so I felt a little nervous, like, what if a snake or bobcat or homeless person wanders into the yard while I'm asleep? But now that I've been out there for a couple of months, I feel more comfortable with the dark outside than I do with the dark inside. Plus it's just so nice to wake up, open my eyes, and see the rosy-fingered dawn just creeping up out of the east, making its way into my backyard.